


Respawned

by jhopeinfiresme



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Almost Kiss, Almost death, Bad Flirting, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Flirting, Not a lot tho, Other, Sexual innuendos, Temporary Amnesia, a lot of flirting, bloodhound mostly just points cutely until someone understands, except they're terrifying, he gets Bopped but he good, icelandic!, lifeline and bangalore are there but not for long, thats his flirting, they gut a girl open fyi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 16:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19749034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhopeinfiresme/pseuds/jhopeinfiresme
Summary: Two respawn ships are used at the same time, and they malfunction. They get switched, resulting in Bloodhound coming out unconscious and amnesic. When the two squads finally regroup and trade teammates, it's up to Bloodhound's squad to bring them up to speed, which Mirage seems particularly enthusiastic about. While Mirage tries to "help", Bloodhound tries to find themself - find out who they are, why they're in a bloodsport, and why they're so good at it.or, Bloodhound forgets like the last three years so they don't know who's who or how to speak english so mirage is like "oh you poor thing, allow me to ~guide~ you /wink wonk/" and they're just, trying to stay alive and relearn shit like "okay? what just shot out of that robot's arm? this good feeling of killing people,, is that normal"





	Respawned

**Author's Note:**

> Please take into consideration the (awful) tags. If I need to add anything, please lmk! Bloodhound does speak Icelandic in here but everything is translated via Pathfinder (jk i used google) so you don't have to go and look it up yourself, wasting precious miragehound time. If something is off about the language, please lmk about that too. I am just a wee American, so I don't know how meters work either.
> 
> There is kinda canon typical violence in here! There are no shields, health bar, video game-ess. If you get shot, you bleed and die. It's more raw? You'll understand. They don't die irl tho, so it's all good!

The adrenaline still pumping through his veins is exhausting, the beating heat of the sun on his hair and over his back just adds to the urge to fall down and sleep for days. Dust is kicking up into his mouth, making him more dehydrated than he already is, the dull ache of his temporarily healed wounds drags him down. The last fight had been tough. It was messy and drawn out, Mirage thought they wouldn't even make it.

He and the robot had barely scraped by. It was only thanks to Mirage's decoy escape up to the tallest building that he was able to get an unexpected upper hand. He found a sniper atop that building, and very very carefully snuck up behind them while his invisibility was still active. The moment he came back into reality, he jumped to slit the enemy's throat. He got the kill, and Pathfinder was finally able to track down the rest of the team safely, but the worst damage had already been done.

The robot's joints were creaking, and some dents in his metal limbs were dripping some kind of oil. Mirage didn't have to pull out his engineering degree to say it was bad. They were still down one teammate. It was unfortunate when it happened, but it helped the remaining two realize how bad their situation was going to be. The first to enter the building was the only one to fall victim to the enemy's ambush. Mirage was able to snatch up the blinking banner before time ran out so they could bring them back after the fight. He's desperate to have a full squad again. Safety is in numbers, even if one of them has nothing but bare hands.

The two are vulnerable out in the desert like this, running without watching their backs. Mirage is sprinting, his wounds as healed as they can be in a simulation. It always amazes him how real it all feels. The sun burns his cheeks and his shoulders. The sand piles over his goggles and in his boots. The fight or flight adrenaline still coursing through his body paired with the steady beat of his teammate's mechanical strides beside him push Mirage to go even faster. He wants to just call it a day after such an agonizing fight, but they both want their teammate back first. Then they might go back for some supplies before setting up camp for the night.

It seems like hours before the two reach a respawn beacon, and by then, Mirage is wondering why he didn't just make the robot go alone. He's sweating by the time he climbs up to the large metal structure, Pathfinder grappling himself up without a hitch. Mirage crawls to a shaded spot while the robot pushes in the banner to be read. He relishes in a break from the scorching sun. After a few seconds, Pathfinder falls down beside him with a large smile on his screen. He pats Mirage's head gleefully.

"Good job, team!" He cheers. "We killed the whole squad! And now we can get our teammate back and still be back in time to set up camp!"

Mirage snorts and leans back with his eyes closed. "Ye-ah," he raspes out. They wait for the green light of the beacon to spread across the sand, indicating the dropzone for their teammate. This is why he came with the robot. To keep the squad together, for company and protection.

—

"If ya keep lookin' up at the sun, it'll burn more than just ya skin," Lifeline comments.

She's kicking at the ground with a grimace on her face. The sun is blistering even with all these trees around. She's been trying to lighten the mood but nothing seems to be working now. It's been about an hour since they've begun waiting. They're both hot and tired. It's risky staying out in the open for so long, but neither of them have mentioned heading back for cover.

"We need to be ready when it comes," Bangalore states, squinting up at the sky through her dark blue sunglasses. "It's takin' its sweet time."

Lifeline frowns at the ground. There's nothing to say to that. The respawn ship usually only takes ten minutes, fifteen at max. Now, they're worried if it'll ever come. They're long past wondering if something's wrong, it's clear something is very wrong. It's now become a matter of waiting to see whether they die first from an enemy squad or the closing ring.

Bangalore had given up taking turns to watch for the ship, and has resolved to just standing on top of the beacon, staring up at the sky with hands on her hips. "Where the hell is it…" she mutters to herself.

Lifeline sighs and looks along what she can see of the horizon. She's anxious, of course, but it's no use watching upward for a ship that might never bring them help if someone sneaks up to kill them before it could come.

Another ten minutes pass. Lifeline is falling asleep as she watches the sun through the trees. Bangalore encourages it, telling her to rest up as she keeps a lookout for anything of interest. When something does happen, there's no need for the soldier to shake Lifeline to attention. A strange rattling sound of a ship flying above them startles Lifeline to her feet.

They stand side by side on the metal in a mixture of relief and worry as the watch a familiar dropship approach their respawn beacon. Except, it doesn't quite make it. The small ship rattles uncharacteristically as it lowers closer to the surface. The trees around them shiver from the force of the wind, spraying their leaves out in every direction. It's coming in a lot faster than usual and is sailing less than smoothly. It repeatedly stops and jerks forward like a glitching image. The contents of the ship are no doubt damaged.

After a couple jittering stops midair, the aircraft pauses almost fifty meters out from where the dropzone and the two women are waiting. Not only that, it's twice as high off the ground than it should be. Something pops loudly just before a small blast of debris falls to the ground, a trail of black smoke creeping out the back. The jump ramp lowers with a shuddering creak audible from even their distance. Then, nothing happens. No one comes out.

"Anita…" Lifeline starts quietly. She's not sure where the sentence would go but it doesn't seem to matter. A startled scream accidentally breaks through her lips as they watch the ship drop straight down about a hundred meters. The wind blows over the two women and shakes the trees around them loudly. Now it's at the height it should be, but someone has yet to come out.

Bangalore moves forward with a curse. She runs through the trees toward it, maybe in a vain effort to catch what falls. "C'mon, c'mon," she urges the ship's passenger, if there is one. She's snarling at the sky, "Let her go!"

Then, the ship suddenly turns itself a sharp 45 degrees upward to prepare for a bumpy ride back. Lifeline makes a desperate noise of worry at this. She wants her teammate back. They both do. The dropship makes another pop, a balloon of blackening smoke, then blasts off in one direction. Up.

This time, they both scream when they see a body fall from the back of the ship just as it blasts away. The body is unmoving, letting gravity take control. It pummels to the ground back first at a terrifying speed, limps pointing upward, the entire body limp.

Lifeline and Bangalore waste no time throwing themselves into the thick forest. They sprint through the dense trees in an effort to meet with the body, maybe even before it lands. Brief glimpses through the leaves can't show them where the body is headed. It's only from the sound of it crashing through the tree branches that the two find the unfortunate land zone.

Bangalore gets there first. She hesitates when she sees the body. Lifeline doesn't, and quickly slides down beside them to check for injuries from the fall. But she can't. The entire body is covered in padding, amor, and gear. Gloves and boots fit over their hands and feet, pouches and tubes line their chest and neck, broken leaves hide in every crevice. A helmet, heavy, immaculate, impenetrable, covers their head.

"Bloodhound?" Lifeline mutters.

She leans forward to place a hand on their cheek, a habit to quickly check someone's temperature. There's no response. She taps the helmet on each side. Nope. She knocks on the glass lenses. Nothing.

"Bloodhound?!"

Her voice is loud with worry. All at once, it doesn't matter why they didn't get their teammate back or why the ship took so long, all that matters is getting Bloodhound conscious. Bangalore is cursing behind her but Lifeline isn't really paying attention.

"Anita, I need ya to check for a pulse," she instructs quickly. "Use their wrist. I'll check their neck."

Bangalore crouches down to do as she's told. She grabs the hunter's left wrist, the only part of their body with a sliver of skin so they can inject themself with medication. Lifeline carefully twists their head up and to the side. They might have a broken neck and she doesn't want to make things worse trying to find open skin there for a better pulse read. Her hands are on the verge of shaking in anxiety but she lets herself slip into doctor-mode to deal with it.

"I feel something but I don't know if it's good or not," Bangalore says. Her voice tense, a subtle sign of her own distress.

"Probably not. Doesn't matta. Use a medkit." Bangalore nods, then Lifeline leans closer to look for any tears in Bloodhound's equipment that could lead to injury. "It'll heal their neck if it's broken, and anythin' else we can't- Hold on--"

Lifeline pauses. She puts her ear right up to Bloodhound's mask. "They're not breathing," she says, eyes wide. Her heart jumps into her throat. Bangalore swears yet another time. Their breathing can usually be heard through the side of their mouthpiece, especially after an aggressive match, but as Lifeline holds her own breath and presses against them, she can't hear a thing.

"I needa take their helmet off. We need to start CPR," Lifeline states, already pulling at the straps and buckles she can see. Nothing seems to be loosening the helmet but she keeps trying.

Bangalore reaches to grip at her wrists. "They've specifically said they'll never show their face," she argues. "We can't make that decision for them, and there are cameras everywhere."

"They could die!" Lifeline growls, slapping the hands away to feel the latches behind Bloodhound's helmet.

"And? This is a game, Lifeline. If they die, they'll just wake up back there."

Lifeline huffs with a scowl. She won't let that stop her from saving a life. Even if Bloodhound isn't part of their squad, even if they're an enemy that will probably die later that day, Ajay is still a doctor. She turns to face the soldier with a stern look. "I don't care. I'm goin' to do my best to save them. Something went wrong, Anita. They barely made it back through a simulation, what if they die here and don't wake up back there? I'm takin' this helmet off. Are ya gonna cover me or not."

Bangalore holds the stare. It's clear she's debating with herself on whether or not Lifeline's efforts will be in vain. Something she said must make sense because eventually, Bangalore turns away. She scowls hard, then stands up. "Poppin' smoke. Better bring them back."

They share a nod before Bangalore shoots a canister at their feet. She retreats from the smoke to keep a look out for enemies while Lifeline rips the helmet off as fast as she can. There's no time to worry about causing brain injury from a broken neck because the medkit should have done its job healing broken bones and keeping them alive. There's even less time to worry about what Bloodhound looks like under their mask. They have a mouth and seem as human as she is, so Lifeline begins chest compressions.

It's a lot harder for CPR to be effective when the recipient is covered in smoke. Each breath they might take in would be full of chemicals. Fortunately for Lifeline, Bloodhound hasn't taken any real breaths since she started. Lifeline works hard nonetheless. She times each compression and each breath, making sure to keep a steady pressure on their chest. Bangalore has had to re-cover the area three times already and Lifeline is counting out loud now. Her arms burn and her own breathing is coming out uneven but there's nothing that will stop her from trying to save this person's life. Even as a loud conversation sparks through Lifeline's earpiece, she doesn't relent her steady counting.

If Bangalore is upset about wasting so many smoke canisters in one day, she doesn't comment. Maybe she does, and Lifeline just isn't listening. She's determined to bring Bloodhound back. It's not all meaningless because just then, the hunter makes a strangled sound. Their mouth opens and closes in an attempt to take in a breath of fresh air. Even as Bloodhound begins to cough through the smoke, Lifeline feels as if she could cry in relief.

Bloodhound’s face twists up in discomfort. They scramble to sit up, holding a hand at their chest and gulping in air. Lifeline is grinning tiredly when she sees Bloodhound calm down and open their eyes for the first time. There’s a strange look of fear that overcomes them when the two meet gazes. Lifeline ignores it. She lets out a stressed laugh and says,“Thank god you’re human unda there. I don’t know if I could’ve got ya back if you were a bat.”

Bloodhound still looks confused, their head tilting ever so slightly. They continue to crawl backward a bit, an arm even coming up as a barrier between them and the medic. “Mannvera?” _Human?_ they say quietly.

Lifeline sees the defensive action and her smile slips off. “What...?” She crawls a bit closer despite her own confusion. She extends her arm to bring them close so they don’t crawl out of the smoke.

Her gesture is immediately met with hostility. Bloodhound quickly snarls, baring their teeth and narrowing their eyes. They swat her hand away while they grab something from their side. The hunter does get closer, only to present a large knife to Lifeline’s throat threateningly. They grip the knife tight, holding Lifeline’s gaze as they growl, “Hættu. Komdu ekki nálægt.” _Stop. Don’t come close._

Lifeline’s jerk reaction is to get angry. She meets their scowl with her own, but when she tries to push away their blade and Bloodhound growls threateningly again, the look melts off her face. Lifeline narrows her gaze, really looking into their eyes to find some kind of genuine anger or even a hint of familiarity. All she sees is a very frightened person, possibly in pain, trying to keep her from hurting them. They’re breathing heavily, strained. They’re shaking. It’s a reaction she’s gotten before.

With a heavy heart, Lifeline puts both of her hands up in submission. She makes a more empathetic expression and softens her voice to try for a different approach. “Hey, don’t worry…” Their head jerks, like they don’t know how to respond. “I’m just here to help, ‘kay? I saved ya life just now. I’m a doctor, see?”

Lifeline wiggles her fingers gently, bringing Bloodhound’s attention to the bright blue surgical gloves she always wears in the games. They don’t completely retreat, but Lifeline watches, unmoving, as they slowly loosen the grip on their knife and take control over their expression. Bloodhound trails their eyes over her attire, seeing the pouch of fluids strapped to her bag, the face mask dangling from her neck, the bright red cross on the fabric.

Bloodhound backs away completely now. They sheathe their knife, and lick their lips. Their head bows down slightly as they say, “Fyrirgefið mér, lækni.” _Forgive me, doctor._

Lifeline purses her lips. She doesn't know what they're saying but it's clear they don't see her as a threat anymore. Bloodhound looks around the two of them, regarding the thinning smoke in gentle curiosity. Then they touch the dirt they're sitting on with interest, spreading the soil between their fingers with a light in their eyes Lifeline has never seen before. Without their mask, Bloodhound seems more human than ever. Innocent and curious, yet also capable of being so terrifying.

Bloodhound should recognize this soil. They should recognize the smoke, the urgency of the situation. They should recognize Lifeline. But they don't and she doesn't know what to do. They seem completely coherent, the only thing off is their memory.

The smoke thins out but it's no problem because Bloodhound found their helmet on the ground. They put it on quickly after storing some soil in their pocket and before tentatively reaching out to touch the smoke. Bangalore strides out from behind the trees when it clears, holding her gun in both hands casually as she approaches the two.

The moment Bloodhound sees her, they duck and hide beside a tree, bringing their blade out once more in defense. Bangalore stops. Confusion is mixed in her ever present scowl, making a weird look of disappointment. She ignores the hunter and meets with Lifeline.

"Good thing you got them up," she comments. "Wraith says the respawn ships got switched. She's with Hound's squad. They decided not to kill her." Bangalore looks to the tree where Bloodhound has now climbed up. "Hey! We're gonna trade you out for Wraith, alright?"

There's no response from them except for a tilt of the head toward Lifeline, who is chewing her lip in distress. Bangalore finally notices and makes a "what the fuck?" motion with her whole body. Lifeline sighs. She takes Bangalore to the base of the tree Bloodhound is at and gestures from them to come down.

"Anita, I think when Bloodhound was in transit, they experienced a kinda trauma to their head…" Lifeline frowns. She looks sadly up at Bloodhound's expressionless mask.

Bangalore steps closer, curious. "I thought the medkit fixed that? It's nothing killing them can't fix, right?" She cocks her gun. Bloodhound tenses. "The ships were just switched. They'll be fine."

Lifeline rushes to put herself between the two. Bloodhound has kept their knife out and brings it up, changing their stance to a pounce and preparing to fight off Bangalore with her gun pointed at their head. "No! No no!!" Lifeline yells, hands coming up. "They've got amnesia, Bangalore! They can't rememba a thing. We still don't know if they'll get back safe and we _definitely_ won't get Wraith back without a trade!"

"Amnesia?" Bangalore repeats. She lowers her gun.

Bloodhound stays on alert though, gripping their knife and snarling over Lifeline's shoulder. "Ég skuldar þér ekkert. Ég mun ekki deyja auðveldlega." _I owe you nothing. I will not die easily._

An expression of utter disbelief paints Bangalore's face instead of any sort of fear. "Alright," she says slowly, turning to Lifeline. "So they forgot English?"

"As far as I know, that's not possible," Lifeline explains. She pushes Bloodhound back until their body language is more relaxed, despite the knife still out. "Eitha way, we don't speak the same language and they don't recognize us. They don' even know where we are."

Bangalore looks the hunter up and down curiously, an eyebrow raised. "You are being a lot quieter than usual… And you've never actually tried to threaten me. You seriously don't know where we are? Or _who_ we are?"

Bloodhound looks at Lifeline, who is biting her lip. Then they look at Bangalore. They shrug and shake their head, a clear sign they don't know what's going on. The women frown. They share an expression of general 'what now?'. Just as Lifeline opens her mouth to say something, a voice in her earpiece starts up.

"Hey, are you going to meet me halfway or just leave me to die to these dumbasses?" Wraith pipes up, amused. "I can tell you two haven't moved. I've got a map, you know."

The women immediately check the minimaps on their arms. There's still a long distance between them and Wraith. If they don't start moving now, it'll be dark before they meet up. Bloodhound tilts their head, shuffling just a tad closer in curiosity.

Bangalore switches on her mic, "Yeah we're on our way." She taps a point on her map then turns to head to the meet-up point. Lifeline silently heads the same direction. Bloodhound follows after a moment. "We've got a situation with Bloodhound though. It's pretty unfortunate."

"Oh? What happened to them."

"They've got amnesia," Lifeline answers, glancing back to see Bloodhound tentatively following. They glance through the trees as if something might pop out of them. "Don' know how to fix it. Much less if they'll make it out alive."

"Shit… That's really bad. Is it, like, permanent? Should I tell their squad? Th-- get _away_ , Mirage! Nothing. I won't. Because you're annoying me. I'll see you later, guys. Bye."

Bangalore chuckles, shaking her head. "They won't kill her."

There's gentle tap at Lifeline's shoulder. "Við hver ertu að tala?" _Who are you talking to?_

Lifeline frowns. She has no clue what they are saying. "Um. We're goin' to meet with your squad," she tries.

Bloodhound tilts their head. It's an action they seem to be making a lot, which is fine because it's the only thing the women can understand - other than the hunter's anger. "Hvern?" _Who?_

She points at the minimap on her arm. "Ya squad." Bloodhound quickens their pace a bit to stand beside her and watch as Lifeline points at two moving dots. "This is me and Bangalore. I'm Lifeline, by the way." Bloodhound nods in acceptance. Then she points at a dot almost 14 kilometers away. "That's Wraith, our teammate. She's with your team. Look."

Lifeline carefully takes Bloodhound's arm into her own hands, showing them their equipment. An identical minimap glows on their forearm where a similar array of dots, lines, and numbers are displayed.

"This is you." She points at a lone dot in an area filled with lots of squiggles, indicating uneven and mountainous terrain like the forest they're in. "These are ya squadmates." The other two dots are just as far away as Wraith is to Lifeline and Bangalore. Their dots are shown to be in a wide and flat area, possibly a desert. "And we're all meetin' here." She points to a diamond in the middle of all three dots. It's about 7 kilometers away.

Bloodhound makes small noises of understanding. They hesitantly touch the screen. A diamond of a different color appears in that spot near their two teammates. A little gasp of surprise can be heard right after. Bloodhound's fingers wiggle a bit, like they're scared to touch the screen again, then they shove their arm toward Lifeline for help.

Lifeline chuckles and cancels the ping. She's about to explain what happened when she notices the hunter's confused head movements. They look left, then right, then consults their arm. When that doesn't give the desired answer, they look at Lifeline and point to the side of their helmet. "Raddir," they say. _Voices._

"Oh. Ya hear people?" Lifeline asks and points at her own earpiece. Bloodhound nods and she smiles, glad they're in contact with their squad. "That's them! You can speak back to them! They're probably wonderin' why ya pinged something." They nod again. "That's alright. I'll tell Wraith ya didn't mean it."

Lifeline does as she says, letting her know Bloodhound probably doesn't know how to speak back, much less in English. This prompts Bloodhound to say, "Þakka þér fyrir." _Thank you._ Lifeline shrugs. No clue. Thankfully, they don't say anything else.

The three walk silently for about half an hour. As they tread through the forest, Bloodhound seems mesmerized. They touch each bush, each tree, each leaf. They often pick a bit off as they pass to pull it apart slowly and let it fall back down. Bloodhound sometimes even stops to scoop a handful soil off the ground and sift through it as they walk. When Bangalore looks back and sees these moments, she rolls her eyes and continues forward. Lifeline always just smiles. It's a nice change to see someone appreciate the work put into the making of the arena.

Soon, they reach the desert part of King's Canyon. There's an abrupt change in terrain where the dark dirt becomes shining sand in a barely blended line. The trees instantly stop appearing and show no indication that there's nothing but dead life just steps away. At the break of the tree line, the sun immediately beats down on the three as they step into the sand.

Bloodhound is surprised at this sudden change. At first, they refuse to move past the trees. When the women look back in confusion, they're met with the hunter pointing at the ground and a statement, "Það er ekki eðlilegt." _That's not normal._

"It's fine," Bangalore says, stopping to wait for them to move past. "Yeah it's more open out here but if anything happens, we'll protect you. We need you to get Wraith back. Amnesia and all."

Lifeline quickly nods and extends a hand out to encourage them to follow. "Yea. We don't trust ya with a gun yet, so that's your squad's problem. You'll just hafta trust us."

Bloodhound crouches a bit, looking both ways before crossing the straight line dividing the two terrains. They quickly catch up to the women, stepping beside Lifeline while maintaining a slight defensive stance. The three continue toward the meeting point when Bloodhound taps the medic's shoulder.

"Hvar erum við?" They ask. _Where are we?_ They point to the device strapped to their arm. "Hvað er að gerast?" _What's happening?_

"Hound, ya gotta remember, we don't understand you," Bangalore responds with a shrug. "We get you're confused and everything, but first we need to make sure we stay alive before we regroup. Any questions are your squad's problem."

Bloodhound turns to Lifeline and nudges her more urgently. Clearly, that was not the answer they were looking for. "Hvað er að gerast?" They repeat. They tap at the device on their arm quickly. "Af Hverju erum við að deyja?" _Why are we dying?_

Confused, Lifeline looks at where exactly Bloodhound is pointing. They bring the minimap up to Lifeline's eyes, tapping at two sets of numbers. 9 and 25. She blinks. 8 and 22. "Hvað er að gerast..."

"Oh," Lifeline says. She scratches the back of her neck. After all this time in the Apex Games, she never thought it would be so hard to tell someone what they're about. Maybe it's because she'll have to explain to Bloodhound that they're _in it_. That they'll have to fight whether they want to or not. It's clear they don't know they've been here before, so they likely don't know they're not really here either. She doesn't want to be the one to break the bad news, but she knows it'll probably be better than Mirage or Pathfinder trying to.

Bloodhound is waiting expectantly for an answer. They watch Lifeline with interest as she fiddles with a string on her bag. She sighs, "Bloodhound, we're in a Game right now. The Apex Games. Do you know what that is?" They shake their head. "Well, okay. In the Games, sixty people team togetha in squads of three, and make twenty squads. Ya get it?"

Slowly Bloodhound nods. They look back down at the device on their arm. Lifeline continues, "That's how many squads are left. Eight. And there are twenty-two people left total. Understand...?" The hunter makes no action to reply. They only face Lifeline with a blank look that seems rather sad. Lifeline frowns.

"Yea… We're killin' each other... It's just a game though," she says quickly, as if that will make it better. "We die here, but we don't die back up there." She points up, to where everyone's bodies are safely stationed as their minds run around down here. Bloodhound follows her hand, watches the sky a moment, then looks back at her. "You'll understand when ya get ya memory back. But for now, know ya safe from actual death. And if ya see someone, tell us. They're probably someone you should kill before they kill you."

It takes a minute, but eventually, Bloodhound nods. They take more careful steps and keep their hand close to their covered knife. She recognizes this as their familiar hunting stance during the Games. It makes Lifeline feel better they understand the situation, but she doesn't have the heart to tell them they might actually be down here, and not up there.

—

They've been walking forever. Almost an hour in the sand alone. The soft give the sand makes with each step makes it harder to keep a steady pace. The wide open land as far as the eye can see keeps them on their toes for potential threats. It's hot, even if the sun is beginning to set. Bloodhound wonders why anyone would ever willingly go to this part of the land. It was much nicer under the shade and surrounded by trees. The soil was wonderful. They could probably sit in it for hours.

Eventually, Bloodhound spots an object at the horizon. They look down at their minimap and realizes the diamond waypoint must be placed there. They tap the doctor's shoulder anyway, pointing at the structure. "Erum við að fara þangað?" _Are we going there?_

She nods. "Yea, that's where the others are. They got there half an hour ago. Pathfinder's got an advantage."

As the three get closer, Bloodhound is able to make out the concrete walls that surround what could be a small town. The tops of a few buildings peek over the walls. A figure stands tall on one of the buildings. It seems to spot them quickly because it waves enthusiastically down at them.

The women return the wave with smiles. "That's them," the soldier says. "Fuckin' finally."

Bloodhound raises a hand in a slight wave toward the figure. They don't know who the person is, but if what Lifeline has told them is true, they will trust them as teammates. Bloodhound only truly trusts the doctor. She had been there when it felt like they were drowning in nothing, on the brink of death. It's clear she had saved their life. They hope to return the favor with their gratitude, which is why they trust who she trusts and does she says. The soldier, they heard be called both Anita and Bangalore, is of no immediate threat. She and Lifeline are on the same team and clearly feels uncomfortable with the idea of teaming up with Bloodhound, who is not. Despite this, Bloodhound can tell she doesn't mean any real harm to them. They trust her as well.

Bloodhound and the women reach the small desert town in no time. The moment the three cross the tall concrete walls, Bloodhound is instantly bombarded with people they have never seen before.

"Welcome back, friend!" a mechanical voice says, coming from a tall blue robot that jumps down from a nearby building. This was the figure who waved at them from afar. The robot approaches Bloodhound with excitement, clapping and showing off hearts through a screen on their torso. "We are very glad to see you are alive!"

Bloodhound has barely any time to give a small nod in reply before a man comes running from across the town. "Hound! Oh my _god_ ," he yells on the way over, almost tripping over his feet. Bloodhound startles at the volume of his voice. They don't think their 'return' warrants such emotion. They blink, and is suddenly being hugged by two people. "We were so worried, and angry - I was angry, Path can't get angry, but he was worried," the man says against Bloodhound's shoulder.

Upon closer inspection, the man on his other side is identical. "Tvíburar?" they mutter. _Twins?_ They are sure Lifeline had said there were only groups of three. Unless this other man was actually the woman 'Wraith' they were getting traded with, Bloodhound is positive they already see three people.

The man at Bloodhound's right is still talking while the 'twin' on their left is silently holding their arm. Both are wearing expressions of relief and hugging them tightly. "... tried to break the beacon, but Path said that would make it worse, so we had to wait for an hour before it came. Wraith's ship was in bad shape and she was a fucking wreck, not like me though, I was pretty calm. She was being so _annoying,_ like I knew what was fucking going on. Then we realized they switched and you were okay, but she said you're not? And what's up with that? Are you okay?"

Bloodhound does not respond. They're not sure how to. There was a lot of information that came out of the man's mouth but they need a moment to piece it together with the information they got from the two women. The man waits for an answer, but when all he gets is a hesitant shrug for now, he steps away with a strange look of confusion and fear.

"Okay, yeah you're not okay. You would've answered with some dumb thing about living forever. Not that your ideas are dumb, just that you say it in dumb situations. Not that getting you back is dumb, but uh, you know what I mean," the man explains hurriedly.

Bloodhound is not sure they do know what he means. He knows them, that much is clear. And he's been waiting for their return but instead found Wraith, who Lifeline and Bangalore had told them about. He seems very worried and confused about Bloodhound's state, so they shake their head. They say, "Ég er í lagi." _I'm fine._

They turn to reassure the identical with similar words. However, when they look all around them, they notice he is gone. Startled and very confused, Bloodhound looks left, then right, then behind them, trying to find the twin they just met. They don't find him on the ground or on any buildings, but they do see a new woman standing beside Lifeline and Bangalore. All three of them look distressed and a little sad despite being together. They forget the disappearing man for a moment in turn of addressing the women who are watching them.

Bloodhound offers a quick nod to both the man with a rather devastated expression and the robot with a question mark on their screen before heading toward the three women. They stop in front of the smaller brunette they haven't met yet. "Halló," they say. "Gaman að hitta þig." _Hello, nice to meet you._

A small smirk comes across the woman's lips. Her eyebrows raise just a bit in a look of amusement and disbelief. "Hey," she replies calmly. "Rough trip back?" They tilt their head with a shrug. They're not sure how to describe the past hours. Thankfully, she understands. "Yeah, you probably don't remember that part either. That's okay. If anyone, I know a thing or two about amnesia. I lost my memory from experimentation a while back." There's a look in her eyes a lot like pity, but Bloodhound feels more understood. She extends a hand, gentle and friendly. "I'm Wraith. It's kinda my name."

They can relate to that. They don't hesitate to shake her hand, trying to convey the same words that she spoke. "Blóðhundur."

She smiles, "But we can call you Bloodhound."

There's something in the way she says it so easily, the way the phrase comes so naturally after their name. They have an urge to say it themself so they may introduce themself more properly. There's something stuck in their throat though. It's not emotion, but something more mental, keeping them from getting the words out. Either way, they stutter in the handshake from the familiarity of the words she spoke. They nod jerkily in response.

Wraith grins now. "You felt that? That's good." She retracts her hand and Bloodhound feels like an open book. "You'll remember everything soon enough. At most, it'll take a few days." They nod slowly, unable to take their eyes off the woman even as so many are on them. She understands in a way even they don't. If they had more time with her, they feel like they might remember more.

Their conversation quickly ends there. The robot and the man approach Bloodhound and the women, confusion written on both of their 'faces'.

"Is there a secret meeting here you're not telling us about?" the man questions. "We're their squad. We should be part of the secret too."

The robots leans in. "Bloodhound is exhibiting uncommon behavior. What is the injury they suffered?"

The women share a look for just a second before Bangalore says, "Amnesia, dumbasses. They don't know who you are."

The man's jaw drops. He looks between Bloodhound and the women in disbelief. Bloodhound isn't sure if that is a good or bad sign. "Wait, _what?_ "

"Amnesia!" The robot says joyfully. "The partial or total loss of memory! I understand now, friend. You must be very confused. I am Pathfinder! This is Mirage. We are your squad this Apex Game. We are also friends outside of the Games as well!"

Bloodhound smiles a bit under the mask. They're glad to be with someone with such high spirits and who is willing to understand their current disability. They offer out a hand, which Pathfinder shakes with a smiling emoticon. "Ef svo er, erum við vinir núna." _If so, we are friends now._

The man named Mirage looks more confused than ever. "Um, bless you?"

"Haha! You are speaking your first language of Icelandic!" Pathfinder comments. "What a welcome surprise. When I first met you approximately three years and two months ago, I downloaded the Icelandic language in the case I need to translate what you are saying."

Bloodhound's eyebrows raise. That's very helpful. Though they don't need a translator for English, everyone else certainly needs to understand what they say. The rest of the group seems overjoyed with this information too. Lifeline claps happily, "Really? That makes things so much easier! Communication is key!"

Wraith and Bangalore agree. "It'll make getting memories back easier," the soldier says.

"Okay, but are we not gonna talk about the fact that they don't remember me?" Mirage speaks up with a raised an eyebrow. When Bloodhound turns to him, he smirks mischievously and strides toward them in sudden confidence. "You're really not gonna tell me you forgot this handsome face? After all we've been through...?"

He stops as close he can get to Bloodhound's mask. A snort can be heard in the distance but Bloodhound is more interested in what the man is doing. He bites his lip and brings a hand up to gently lift the Bloodhound's chin, the tilt to his head making it rather attractive. "You know me, right?" he says quietly with pleading green eyes. A hint of a pout is at his lips now, making the whole action very intriguing and sultry.

Bloodhound is at a loss of what to do. No one is stopping him and Bloodhound isn't sure if they are in a position to tell the man what to do. There's a look in his eyes that says he's the leader of the squad, if there is one. Lifeline didn't tell them there was. He must simply be flirting because he wants to.

Mirage leans closer before Bloodhound can think of how to respond. He turns Bloodhound's head to the side slightly so he can speak in their ear, quietly, seductively, a deep trill in his voice, "Maybe we can get to know each other differently this time around…"

He pulls back with a smirk and a light in his eyes. If it wasn't for the muffled laughing behind them, Bloodhound would think this man is being completely serious. Maybe he is, and the women are just laughing at the display. Bloodhound doesn't know. He doesn't know him any more than they see him as now. There's a lot of things happening in their head right now, like the fact that all of these people may kill each other once they realize Bloodhound is now with the correct group. Bloodhound couldn't bring themself to kill any of them. They seem friendly.

The thoughts are wiped from their head when Pathfinder speaks. "It's clear now more than ever that Bloodhound has lost their memory. Not only are they allowing you to make advances; earlier, they did not recognize your decoy as a fake."

There's a spark in Mirage's eyes when he hears this and his smirk grows even wider. He puts his hands up, bringing Bloodhound's attention to them. They watch as the hands wave quickly and a brief flash of light emits from his whole body. Mirage takes out a pistol, twirling it on his finger quickly before tossing it up and catching it in the air. He throws it into his other hand, where it never appears. He winks, but Bloodhound barely sees it because the man vanishes. They're spun around, and sees Mirage behind them now. He twirls the gun around again, throwing it in the air for it to be caught by an identical 'decoy' - or is it the real one? The two men face each other, tossing two pistols between them impressively. They drift apart until one is left juggling them in front Bloodhound. He catches both pistols with a grin, then levels them up to Bloodhound's eyes.

"Bang." The man vanishes at the word. It takes a second for Bloodhound to realize the word came from beside them. They watch as Mirage leans an arm on Bloodhound's shoulder and blows imaginary smoke from his gun. He smirks, coming close to say, "I'm sorry, did I confuse you?"

Bloodhound blinks. They were not expecting that. Pathfinder cheers gleefully from behind them and the women can be seen giving half-hearted claps. They're all wearing smiles nonetheless.

"That was good, Mirage," Wraith says. "Did you learn it for the school talent show?"

Mirage pulls away from Bloodhound, rolling his eyes. "No, of course not." A decoy appears beside him for the sole purpose of giving Mirage an elaborate handshake and disappearing right after. "I do it for the kids."

"What kids."

"Shut up."

"Heillandi..." Bloodhound comments softly. They tilt their head to watch Mirage as he puts his pistol back into the holster and fixes his hair calmly. "Þú heldur áfram að vekja hrifningu á mér. Ég man það."

Mirage pauses, eyes wide when he sees Bloodhound is watching him."Y-you're talking to me?" He asks hurriedly, as if he can't believe it. "Um, Path! Translate!"

"Okay." Pathfinder's screen shows three blinking dots for a moment. Then a line of words appear. They read: _Charming… You continue to impress me. I remember that._

Bloodhound gets closer to the screen to read the words. They approve the translation and show it with a nod and a finger pointing at the screen. When they turn back around, they see varying degrees of disbelief. They all have their eyes wide, Wraith and Bangalore seem intrigued, Lifeline looks confused, and Mirage clearly has no clue how to respond. His mouth is open, cheeks are pink, and eyes are unmoving.

"You said that…" Mirage mumbles quietly, "out of your mouth…"

Bloodhound shrugs and points to the screen again. They don't know if they were supposed to hear him so they don't try to reply. Wraith steps forward instead. "You remember that?" she repeats from the translation. "Do you remember Mirage himself or does the whole act just feel familiar?"

They take a moment to think on this. When Bloodhound first met Mirage, they didn't know there was only one man and his clone. They really didn't recognize him. Now that Mirage has done an entire stunt involving his decoys, something does feel familiar.

"Frammistaða," they say, looking up at her. "Afritið er kunnuglegt." _The performance. The copies are familiar._

A translation is quickly shown on Pathfinder's chest along with a tiny moving image of a dancing robot in the corner. While Mirage is still staring at the ground with his eyes narrowed, Bangalore speaks up. She says, "So it's the action. Maybe you'll remember more if you're put into situations you've been in before."

"This should be easy in the Games. Like a crash course," Wraith states. "Did they tell you where we are?" Bloodhound nods. "Good. Mirage, Path, listen up."

The robot immediately stands straighter and replaces Bloodhound's translation screen with a smiling emoticon. Mirage takes a second, but he clears his throat and sends a dashing smile to the women as they approach. "I'm always listening, babe," he says.

Bloodhound blinks. What an odd term to call an enemy. Wraith punches the man in the arm, making it clear she did not approve of the name. Lifeline and Pathfinder laugh while Bangalore wears a small smile. She quickly wipes it off and reverts back to her usual serious expression.

"Alright, everyone. This little reunion has been fun, but we lost a lot of time," she states. Her voice is full of authority, something everyone seems to feel. "The sun has set, which makes it easier to leave the desert. Our squad will go back to the forests. When the sun rises, if we see you, we'll kill you."

Bloodhound looks at their squad for any indication of this being a good plan. They don't feel as though they are in any position to make a decision, whether it concerns the 'games' or not.

Pathfinder changes his screen to a blinking lightbulb for a moment. He says, "That is fair. We will fight on sight. Oh! A rhyme!"

Mirage rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, that's fair. But by the time you walk back to cover, the sun will be up and we'll be nice and rested. Stay the night," he offers casually. The women look surprised but Mirage just scoffs. "Really, it'll be fine! We can stay friends until the sun rises! Or not, I mean, we don't have to meet. Girls over there, men and hunters over here."

The three narrow their eyes at him. Lifeline and Wraith lean in to whisper to Bangalore between them. The soldier doesn't make any move to reply to them, keeping a level stare at the man like she can see through him. Lifeline whispers in her right ear as Wraith's eyes turn white for just a second before whispering in Bangalore's left ear. They seem to come to a conclusion because the soldier ticks her head to the side and steps toward Mirage threateningly. The man only keeps his grin on, his arms crossed to show he feels confident in the idea.

"We will stay for tonight," she says. Mirage's grin widens. "But we will leave before dawn. We'll stay on our side of town and you'll stay on yours. If any of you decide to track your muddy little boots near our camp, we'll slaughter you on sight. Good?"

Mirage snorts. "Trust me, there's nothing you girls have that I want, if you catch my drift." Bangalore steps forward, unamused. Mirage stumbles back a bit. "Whoa whoa, it's just a joke, Anita! You're all queens, I get it. Point is, we won't try to ambush you as long as you don't try to ambush us. Deal?"

The man extends a hand in a truce. Bangalore shakes it firmly. "Deal."

"Wonderful!"

Pathfinder claps at the resolution, "Yay! Let's go to bed!"

Bloodhound is just about to follow the robot to the 'men and hunters' side of the town when Lifeline stops all three of them. "Hold on, guys. We've still got otha issues to deal with."

Bloodhound's head tilts to the side when the doctor gives them a pointed look. Mirage sees it and a brief flash of concern paints his features. He and Pathfinder stop to listen to what she has to say.

"I've been thinkin' about Hound's trip back," she begins with a somber look. "We know now that Wraith had a rough time too, but the fact that Bloodhound came back unconscious is concernin'." She turns to Mirage and Pathfinder seriously. "Before ya get into any battles, I want ya to make sure they're not really down here, ya feel? You needa make sure the rules still apply."

Bloodhound has no idea what she means by that. She had told them they were all 'up there', but now she wants their squad to make sure Bloodhound really is? They're not sure how they will do that, but the two are already nodding back in understanding.

Lifeline sighs. "Alright, good. Now, it's up ta you two to teach them how this whole Game works alright? We're countin' on you to bring their memory back."

"I will do my best to take care of our friend and bring them back, Lifeline," Pathfinder assures with a sad face on their screen. "It hurts my mechanical heart to know they do not remember their wonderful life and may not make it out alive."

"Good," Lifeline sighs, relieved. "Mirage?"

"Of course, Ajay," the man says. His smile is not as bright as Bloodhound is used to when he lightly punches her in the arm. "I'll help ol' Houndie out. Teach them everything I know, like my little student. You'd like that wouldn't you, Houndie?" Mirage suddenly turns to Bloodhound. A now familiar grin is in place when he winks back at them. "Learning under me?"

Bloodhound's head jerks toward Mirage at this. They have no idea how the conversation turned directions so quickly. The man is still grinning at Bloodhound, even more so now that he can see they're caught off guard. Bloodhound doesn't know how to react, especially since the women are all rolling their eyes.

"Your silence speaks volumes, Bloodhound. No need to say a word," Mirage says in their stead. He turns back to Lifeline, speaking a little quieter, a little more reserved. "They're in good hands, Lifeline. You know that, right?"

She nods and rubs her eyes tiredly. "I do… I'm just tired today. Let's find a good room on our side of town, 'kay guys? 'Night everyone."

Pathfinder raises a large arm to wave at her as she leaves. "Goodnight, friends! I hope you will see me tomorrow on the big screen! Get it? Because I will be winning?"

She chuckles and waves back, already walking away with Bangalore at her side.

"Góða nótt!" Bloodhound pipes up before it is too late. "Og þakka þér fyrir…" _Good night, and thank you._

Pathfinder quickly translates the words in time for Lifeline and Bangalore to read them. They both smile at the screen Pathfinder points at. Bangalore gives a nod while Lifeline waves enthusiastically, "Ya welcome, Hound!"

Bloodhound watches them go for a moment. They're really grateful the two had been so nice to them, especially now that they know they're in a blood sport. It seems clearer now that Bangalore was not talkative less because she felt uneasy helping the enemy and more because she's a no nonsense person under these circumstances. They are grateful to both for not trying to hurt them.

They turn to follow after Mirage and Pathfinder, but Wraith catches up to them first. She steps in front of them smoothly in concern, "Hey, could we talk a bit?"

Bloodhound straightens. They look around quickly for the robot. If she wants to have an actual conversation with them, they would need a translator. They are in no position to speak English in return. Pathfinder is already gone, but thankfully Wraith is smiling a bit.

"You don't have to respond," she says. "I just need to talk to you."

They settle down at this. She has been nothing but helpful so far, so they nod gently to show they're listening.

She smiles again. "I want to make sure you're comfortable with them. Mirage and Pathfinder." Bloodhound nods immediately. They feel safe with the squad, especially after seeing the women interact with them so casually. Wraith chuckles. "Yeah, that's good. I'm just saying because you probably trust Lifeline more than any of us because she saved you, which is valid. Now, Mirage and Path can be dumbasses, but they're smart dumbasses. Especially Mirage. You know, the guy who keeps flirting with you."

Bloodhound lowers their head a bit, shy. The advances were unexpected, but not necessarily unwelcome. He didn't force himself on them and they definitely didn't feel uncomfortable around him for some reason. Either way, they think it's odd he reacted so passionately when he realized they had amnesia.

Wraith quickly continues. "Don't worry about that. Or him, for that matter. He'll probably do it more, but it's all fun. If you ask him to stop, he will. He's just feeling confident now that you don't know who you are."

Bloodhound tilts their head to the side. "Hver er ég?" _Who am I?_

It's weird to think that. It's a question that's always seemed to plague them. And now, when they don't remember anything from at least the past three years and two months - according to Pathfinder -, the phrase decides to creep up into their life again. They remember being a young hunter, being so skilled at nearly everything related to tracking, stalking, catching things big and small - killing them sometimes too. They remember asking themself this question and wondering if they were really meant to catch and kill things so easily, and if they were, why?

Now the phrase has a different meaning. Everyone seems to know Bloodhound. Everyone but themself. It's interesting to think that the question has become so simple now, yet so much harder to answer.

Wraith understands. She frowns a bit to show it. "You'll figure out who you are. With time. Maybe when it's over, you'll know yourself a little better than you did before. I believe it."

There's a softness in her voice that makes Bloodhound feel safe. They've known her for about fifteen minutes now but they're sure they've become very close. She's more than sympathetic for their situation, she's empathetic. Wraith understands, and believes they can come out the other side stronger. Bloodhound smiles underneath their mask, even if she can't see it.

"Þakka þér fyrir," they say quietly, a small bow of their head accompanying it. _Thank you._

Wraith smiles ever so slightly. She must know what they mean, because she mimics their action and says, "No problem… friend. I'll see you around. You better remember me then."

They nod, giving her a little wave when she leaves. With her reassurance, they feel more confident about where they stand, socially and mentally. She implied that others feel more confident when Bloodhound doesn't know who they are - doesn't act normally. They must be influential. They hope that's a good thing. She also seems to know a lot about the situation they're in, and has given Bloodhound the words they needed to hear. With a little help and some time, they can get through this bump in their life, and come out a bit stronger than they began.

—

Bloodhound finds their squad in a long building consisting of a chain of small rooms. Some rooms have windows to look out across the dark desert town, others are simply small boxes that could fit three to four people comfortably. Each room is connected by a heavy sliding door that may or may not work, some open half way, others open forever. Bloodhound enters the building through a window, seeing as the door at the end is sealed shut. They continue down the hallway of messy rooms, careful not to trip in the small hills of sand that drifted in and whatever lies underneath it. The long building has no doors on the side of its rooms, making it near impossible to go anywhere but forward.

After winding through a few half closed doors, Bloodhound finds Mirage and Pathfinder at the end of the walk, roughly twenty rooms in. It doesn't seem like it's the end of the building, only that the door on the other end is closed. Bloodhound steps through the half open door and is met with two smiling faces, one real, the other artificial.

The soft blue light coming from the robot's screen is the only light the group has to see this far into the building. There is one rare intact window to the side, but it brings in no moonlight because of a tall building directly in front of it. It's a secluded room, with little to no sand or junk at the ground, a perfect place to hide for the night.

"Good! You found us!" Mirage says cheerfully. He pats the ground beside him with a grin. "Make yourself at home. It'll be a long night if you don't remember how hard the floors are."

Silently, Bloodhound sits beside him. They watch as Mirage and Pathfinder look through their respective bags. Pathfinder pulls out a spray bottle and a rag. He promptly sprays himself in the eye. A sad face is displayed briefly before he cleans it off. Bloodhound smiles. Mirage unclasps his belt and unstraps a few pockets from his outfit, then puts them all in the bag. He zips the bag up and gathers it in his arms.

A flash of a smile returns to his face. Mirage quickly stands to his knees and swings a leg over Bloodhound's crossed ones to stop there a minute, not quite straddling them, just hovering above with a seductive look. Bloodhound immediately jerks their head back, surprised at the sudden proximity. It seems to make the man smile wider as he leans just a tad closer, not to intrude, but so his whisper can be heard.

"As the most vulnerable member, our Houndie will sleep in the middle." Mirage easily slides himself between Bloodhound and the half open door. He speaks louder now, "I'll take first watch. Then Path, never Bloodhound." He winks at them, "You get special treatment."

Bloodhound shakes their head and looks between their teammates, "Ég mun horfa yfir þig. Ég þarf ekki að sofa."

Mirage frowns, turning to Pathfinder. The robot wears a question mark before an exclamation point. He hits his screen a few times and a line of translation types out: _I will watch over you. I don't need to sleep._

Mirage snorts as soon as he reads it. "That's crazy pants. Path doesn't need to sleep, but he still gets rest time. You need to sleep. I like to think you're human, so tell me I'm wrong."

Again, Bloodhound just shakes their head. "Ég var meðvitundarlaus. Sofandi. Ég er ekki þreyttur." _I was unconscious. Asleep. I'm not tired._

"What? No!" Mirage exclaims, suddenly upset. He narrows his eyes at them, "That's not how it works, Bloodhound. You and Path--"

"Við sofa ekki," Bloodhound interrupts calmly. Mirage has a look on that's plainly distressed and unamused. It only worsens when he reads the translation: _We don't sleep._

Bloodhound insists more because of his expression. They hesitantly reach out to place a hand over Mirage's where he's holding his bag to his chest. "Sofa," they say softly. _Sleep._ They turn to Pathfinder a moment before looking at Mirage's now surprised expression. "Hann getur hjálpað mér að muna." _He can help me remember._

Pathfinder nods, a tiny pixelated robot dances around the text translation. "They are right, Mirage," he agrees. "I don't need to sleep and they do not feel the need to. You must rest. I may rest as well, but we can still have a conversation through my typing features."

"That's not fair," Mirage tries to argue again, clearly upset about something deeper. "I - They - They almost fucking _died_ , Path! Like _real life_ died. I'm not the one who needs to take a break, it's them!"

"We don't know that for sure," Pathfinder replies calmly. "Lifeline only told us it is a possibility. To settle this, we could check right now and see if the result supports your claim?"

The robot suddenly goes for the gun strapped along his back. It's about a third as long as the small room, then pressed to Pathfinder's shoulder, it reaches across half the room. Bloodhound startles when the barrel lines perfectly to their head, right between their eyes. A flash of fear runs through their entire body for the first time since they regained consciousness. They thought they were safe.

Everything next happens too fast to understand. As Bloodhound crawls back quickly, they fumble for anything on their body that might be able to protect them against a robot with a gun. They don't even have enough time to bring an arm up to protect themself. Mirage is scrambling to get in front of them. He pulls Bloodhound back roughly as he grabs at the barrel of the gun, putting his body directly in front of it instead.

_**Bang** _

There's a flash of light that illuminates the small dirty room much better than Pathfinder's screen. Nearly every crevice of the room can be seen when white light floods the area. Everywhere but behind Mirage. The man is hunched over in Bloodhound's lap, the wrong end of a gun buried in his stomach.

Pathfinder says something. Bloodhound probably says something. The gunshot was too loud to understand anything either way. It leaves a ringing in their ears as they try to make sense of what's happening. Mirage spazzes in their lap, tilting to the side to fall to the ground. Bloodhound grabs him before he does and hastily pulls him close. They try to turn him gently to lay him on his back but the painful look on his face has them hesitating.

Bloodhound shakes their head jerkily, laying him down as gently as possible. Their hands hover above his body uselessly as if touching him will cause him more pain. The gun slipped from Mirage's hold when he fell but his hands still clutch at his stomach. He coughs, squeezing his eyes shut. Bloodhound makes a sound they can't quite describe and their shaking hands find his face.

They pet at his cheek, his hair, his neck, anything they think might help him. One hand goes down to his stomach to gently cover his own. For comfort or to help keep pressure, they're not sure. They continue to hold him regardless, cupping his twisted face in their hand as if it would take away the pain.

Mirage coughs hoarsely again. He shakes his head away from their hand, "I - I'm fine, Hou-nd… I'm - ok-ay."

Bloodhound strongly disagrees. He took a bullet for them. They press at his stomach a bit. "Nr. Nr. Þú ert ekki í lagi," they say quietly. "Þú ættir ekki að hafa gert það. Ég er ekki verðugur." _No, no. You're not okay. You shouldn't have done that. I'm not worthy._

"Sh-shut up," Mirage gasps. He opens his eyes slightly to look up at Bloodhound in discomfort. "You're so - c-ca - I'm fuck-ing _fine._ "

He stops to take in wheezing breaths and Bloodhound shakes their head. They whisper, "Nr, vinsamlegast ekki segja það…" _No, please don't say so._

Mirage groans and takes a hand from his stomach to take Bloodhound away from his face. "Idiot. I'm f-fine." Bloodhound lets Mirage take their hand and use it as leverage to sit up. He coughs against the wall a moment before looking up at them through a squint. "Hound, really. I'm okay."

Bloodhound shakes their head and gestures at where Mirage's and their own hand are pressed. They crawl closer to press at it softly, looking up at him in sadness. Mirage takes in heavy breaths and narrows his eyes. "G-goddammit, _look._ "

Bloodhound follows his gaze down to watch as he shakily takes his hand away from his stomach, Bloodhound's hand moving with his. There's a heart stuttering moment as they notice there is nothing left behind. No blood, no bullet, no tear in the clothes. They don't understand, but don't need to. They snap their head up to see Mirage weakly smirking and cut off whatever he's about to say by promptly grabbing his head and pressing it firmly against the slope of their helmet.

If they weren't wearing so much gear, the two of them would have their foreheads pressed together. Now, however, Mirage is simply being squished against the helmet in their relief. They pull back and stroke his cheeks and hair again, this time in gratefulness. "Þakka Alföðr," they say with a small sigh. "Þú ert í lagi." _Thank the Allfather. You are okay._

Mirage pouts in the hold and removes the hands from his face. "Did you seriously just thank your gods and not the most wonderful rule of No Friendly Fire?"

Bloodhound tilts their head, sitting back more comfortably now that they know their new friend will not die. Mirage rolls his eyes. He shoves his hand into Bloodhound's to give an object to them. They look down curiously. It's the bullet. Speechless, Bloodhound stares at it until Mirage explains.

"We're a team," he states. "Path can't hurt me and I can't hurt him. Those are the rules. It's kept me alive through countless Apex Games. Even if he shoots me point blank in the stomach. I mean, it still hurts like a bitch though. Friendly fire always feels like the real thing."

Mirage laughs it off but Bloodhound turns to Pathfinder. The robot is in the corner of the room, silently tapping his index fingers together in shame. An embarrassed sad face can hardly be seen on his screen because he's curled up as small as he can get.

"I am sorry, friend," Pathfinder says quietly. "I was unaware that if the rules did not apply, I would have killed you."

Bloodhound nods gently, finally understanding everything. It was this rule that Lifeline wanted to make sure still applied. They are part of Mirage and Pathfinder's team but if either of them could hurt Bloodhound or vis versa, it could mean they're really in the Games, and not 'up there.' Then they could actually die in this blood sport. Pathfinder was attempting to injure them to see the result. It wasn't intentionally a bad idea, but it was a bad idea.

Mirage breaks the silence with his perfectly level voice, as if he hadn't been injured at all. "Okay, now that Path has decided to ma- malick- mulch- ish - um, intentionally harm me," he stutters with a grin, flashing it toward Bloodhound even as Pathfinder whines softly ' _no_ ~.' "Would you like to hurt me too, Hound?"

Bloodhound startles, shaking their head quickly. They could not, especially after watching their teammate curl up in such pain. Mirage only chuckles. "You don't have to shoot me. I mean, you can if you want. Just somewhere I can live through if you do hurt me. Here, if you want it."

Mirage fumbles through his bag and pulls out the same pistol he had been doing tricks with earlier. He hands it to the hunter with a nod. Bloodhound looks down at their hands a moment. In their left, a bullet that would have gone through Mirage and ended his life if not for the solid rules in place. In their right, Mirage's own gun that can shoot through him and actually end his life if the same rules were not so solid. Bloodhound looks up to see Mirage watching them expectantly.

They shake their head slowly, holding out both hands for Mirage to pick up the objects. They can't bring themself to shoot him. Shooting him with his own gun at that would be out of the question. It's disrespectful. Bloodhound would feel guilty if they hurt him or not. Mirage doesn't seem to mind getting hurt. He picks up the objects, throwing the bullet over his shoulder and the gun in his bag.

He shrugs and says, "Alright, you can beat me up or something, whatever." He points to his cheek with a smirk. "This whole thing here is a fan favourite, really. People like my handsome face both to stare at and to punch. Go at it."

Again, Bloodhound shakes their head. Mirage seems to be having a lot of bad ideas lately. They gently take his hand into their own instead. Mirage's expression turns to confusion. They look back at Pathfinder to see a blue question mark floating on their screen too. Bloodhound takes out their hunting knife. Mirage's eyes raise when Bloodhound turns his hand palm up and spreads the fingers out slowly.

"Oh, uh," Mirage says when he realizes what's happening. "Here."

He quickly pulls off his glove and holds it tight in his other hand. The bare hand is presented to Bloodhound again, clean and healthy skin glowing in the gentle light. Bloodhound hesitates. They tighten their grip on the handle of their knife, preparing to slash it cleanly and quickly without pain. They can't hurt him. Not after he took a bullet for them. Real or not.

Bloodhound swivels the blade around, holding the metal in their hand and pressing the handle to Mirage's. It happens so fast, they can see the man flinch as if they already cut him. Bloodhound feels guilt pool in their stomach. They pull off one of their own red gloves and holds their hand out for Mirage to see clearly.

"H-holy fu-- ok, um," Mirage starts, surprised. He closes his eyes and turns his head up. "No one's ever actually seen your skin and shit and - uh I don't mean shit, or that you're shit, I mean, uh, no one - has ever - seen you - under any of that - stuff, uh gear."

Bloodhound shrugs. "Mér er alveg sama." _I don't care._ They bring their gloved hand up to tilt Mirage's head down. He peeks an eye out to see Bloodhound's unchanging mask and relaxes a bit. "Halda áfram," they urge gently. _Continue._

Mirage nods hurriedly despite not knowing what they said. He takes a deep breath as he takes their hand in his shaking ones. He regrips the blade a few times before lining it to their palm. Then he presses down, and slides it across quickly, firmly. Bloodhound watches the man's face he does this. They feel it. It feels exactly like a blade slicing through the skin of their hand. Stinging, burning deep pain. They don't show it though. It isn't until Mirage's face melts into a wonderful grin and relief is in his eyes that Bloodhound looks down. They see no blood, no wound. They're okay.

Mirage lets out a wonderful laugh like he's been holding his breath. His eyes shine brightly when they meet Bloodhound's. The hunter is smiling as well, though no one can see it. They nod quickly to show their excitement instead.

"Woohoo!" Pathfinder exclaims. He throws his hands in the air in celebration. "I feel much better now knowing you would not have died if I shot you!" A smiling emoticon with heart eyes is bouncing on his screen. "How do you feel, friend?"

Bloodhound sighs and looks down at their unmarked hand in Mirage's. It still aches a bit, but it's nothing that won't go away. "Öruggur," they state quietly. _Safe._

They don't bother to see if Pathfinder translates. They smile to themself knowing they will not get hurt in the coming events. They may die at the hands of an enemy, but this has shown it will not happen to their real body. If their teammates accidentally hurt them, it will not leave a mark. They feel safe.

Mirage's lips quirk up shyly when he clears his throat and hands the hunter their knife back. "That's - that's good. Real good. Awesome even." Bloodhound nods silently, sheathing the weapon and replacing their glove. "Please tell me you're happy about this too. We can't see your face."

Under their helmet, Bloodhound grins. There's not much to show their joy in the dark, so they bring a hand up to touch Mirage's chin gently. They nod deeply, almost like a bow. When the man's face turns visibly dark and his smile falters, Bloodhound retracts his hand to do a similar gesture to Pathfinder. The robot leans in as Bloodhound taps the edges of his lens in a sort of petting motion.

"Ég er glaður," they say. _I'm glad._

Mirage clears his throat again after a moment. Then he grins sheepishly and scratches the back of his neck. "So were you gonna stay up or let me…?" Bloodhound chuckles and he must notice. "Either is cool, totally cool. I promise I won't fight over it this time. I can keep promises, I promise."

Rolling their eyes, Bloodhound presses a hand against Mirage's chest much like they did earlier. "Sofa," they say with a little pressure. "Þú hefur hjálpað mér mikið. Láttu Path hjálpa mér núna" _Sleep. You have helped me a lot. Let Path help me now._

It still takes a moment for Mirage to look at the screen. He's got an unreadable look on his face as he watches Bloodhound. They think he must be really tired if he keeps gazing off like that. They're glad that when Mirage does read Pathfinder's translation, he smiles and lowers his head in acceptance.

"Alright, have it your way," he says. "Wake me up if you need me."

Mirage uses the bag full of his equipment and weapons as a pillow as he lays down beside the door. It must be blowing cold air but if it is, he doesn't comment. When Bloodhound is sure Mirage is content, they turn to Pathfinder. They crawl up to the robot and read the screen: _My camera is turned off! And my limbs! I cannot see anything other than what is on my screen. Think of it like a dream! Feel free to ask me questions using this chat feature! We must stay quiet to ensure Mirage sleeps well :)_

Bloodhound spends the night searching and typing through Pathfinder's system. It started off with them asking the robot how long they've really known the robot, how they met, and what they liked to do together. They learned it really has been three years and two months since they've met. Pathfinder joined the Apex Games in search of his creator, then became so good he was placed in lobbies with the long time champions, where Bloodhound was. The two liked to train together and share information about animals they find.

It was interesting for Bloodhound to find these things out about themself. They believe Pathfinder is telling the truth, but it's hard to believe Bloodhound had been playing the Apex Games for more than three years. It doesn't feel familiar, so they hope getting in more familiar situations will bring back memories. They would have to learn more about the Game to really understand why they're here too. At first glance, it's not something Bloodhound thinks they would be so dedicated to.

Before getting into a research bout, Bloodhound wants to learn more about the people they met today. They ask Pathfinder about Lifeline, then Bangalore, Wraith, and Mirage. He says they've all been friends for years after they each met in the Games. They were often placed in squads together to make unstoppable teams that brought a lot of entertainment to viewers. Though they were all long time champions and contestants, Pathfinder continues to say Bloodhound is the most well known and respected veteran.

All of this makes Bloodhound more curious about their own life. What does being good at the Apex Games involve? Why were they so good at it? How were the others? How could they find friends in a blood sport? These questions plague their mind, but they are patient and know they will understand with time.

Pathfinder shares a couple of videos they've taken of Bloodhound and the other contestants both in and out of the Games. In the video of them in the games, Bloodhound can be seen very attentively following a trail in the dirt. They don't recognize this place, but it's clear the video-Bloodhound does. They follow the trail carefully, avoiding twigs and leaves that might make a sound. When they get to the end, they stop, tilt their head at the ground, and startle, snapping their head up. Their reflexes are too slow, and a bright green jump pad is thrown at them. It inflates under their feet, launching them four meters up, and six meters across. They don't yell, or say anything for that matter, just let the pad take them away. A young man jumps in front of the camera. He wears a mask, goggles, and his own little camera on his chest. He yells in celebration, putting his hands up like he just won an award. Bloodhound doesn't know him, but considering they don't threaten him when they make it back, he must be another friend.

The video outside of the Game is of Mirage. He tells the camera - Pathfinder - that's he's going to try to 'get everyone angry.' It ends up being rather harmless. Mirage tells Lifeline, 'Plant science is not real science," and she just about blows a fuse. He continues saying random controversial things and putting random liquids in mugs until someone gets upset and he laughs and runs away. At the end, Mirage can be seen carefully approaching a large raven outside. He coos at it dotingly as it stands there without interest.

"Arthur~" the man says softly, walking toward it as casually as possible. He's hesitant, and he should be. Bloodhound recognizes the feisty independent bird. They've known Arthur for at least seven years and he likes to yell at people he doesn't like. They say his name quietly after they hear Mirage say it.

Arthur allows Mirage and Pathfinder to come close. He opens his palm slowly in front of the bird, revealing a variety of bright hot peppers. Bloodhound squirms uneasily. The feeling increases when Arthur hops to Mirage's shoulder and eats them from his palm happily. Mirage smirks at the camera, but it's wiped off his face when he spots something behind Pathfinder.

"Elliott, no!" Bloodhound can be heard yelling in the background. They tilt their head at their own voice. At the name coming out in such surprise and something like fear.

Bloodhound is in view quickly, and though Mirage tenses his body and squeezes his eyes shut, the hunter goes straight for what's in his hand. They relax visibly when they notice they are perfectly edible for Arthur. Even so, they cross their arms and stare down the man who fed the bird.

"Elliott, I've told you not to feed him!" Bloodhound stresses. "He gets plenty of food from the wild. Even if he can't eat something, he will try to, especially if you offer them like that. Now close your hand. If he eats them all, he will get an upset stomach."

Mirage smiles sheepishly and does as he's told, closing his palm to show Arthur he's had enough. But right after, he brings up his other hand to open it and reveal assorted berries. Arthur hops to the other shoulder and eats them joyfully. The video cuts right as Bloodhound releases another strained, "Elliott!"

Bloodhound watches the video again. This one brings memories. They don't recognize half the people Mirage plays with but they recognize their beloved bird. Arthur is a friend they've had since they moved from home. It sparks a memory of why they moved in the first place, it reminds them why they came here and why they decided to stay. Bloodhound scoots closer to Pathfinder's screen, watching affectionately as the bird eats the spicy peppers like candy. He really shouldn't have, they are like candy to Arthur and he shouldn't eat more than he needs to. Bloodhound spoils him enough.

The name Bloodhound exclaimed also sparks some thoughts. Elliott is Mirage. Bloodhound knows the Mirage that's flirting with them, that took a 'fake' bullet for them, that's sleeping soundly beside them now. This Elliott is the same trickster, but who had flinched when he noticed Bloodhound running toward them, who had lowered his head in shame when Bloodhound scolded him. Bloodhound thinks it's because of what Pathfinder said that Elliott is careful around them. They're apparently a highly regarded person in the Apex Games. Wraith said he's only so confident messing with them because they don't remember that.

Bloodhound looks back at the sleeping man. Elliott. Mirage. Knowing his real name now gives him familiarity in a way that hasn't happened yet after knowing the robot more. They're sure that when they all interact more, Bloodhound will remember. After hearing themself speak English so easily as well, it gives Bloodhound some courage to try it out in the morning. It might help the memories.

Bloodhound thanks Pathfinder for all his help and asks if they can use his online features to learn about the Apex Games. He agrees easily and keeps a little dreaming face in the corner of his screen if Bloodhound ever needs to talk to him. Pathfinder is no computer, but he's able to have one site open at a time and can search through a variety of databases to find keywords. Bloodhound uses this to their advantage, searching the words Apex Games and anything else they stumble upon like King's Canyon and Legends.

Most of the information they get doesn't bring back memories, but it does prepare them for what they may encounter the next day. They learn about the damage the ring causes, the duration of each round, the sorts of weapons scattered about, and what equipment is allowed on the field. Bloodhound is reminded of their own equipment. They realize they're at an advantage because they can spot tracks so easily to catch prey or enemies. They've also created a device that gives them a visual of bodies in a small area for a moment. Then there's their 'Ultimate,' where Bloodhound can activate advanced visual technology and allow themself to call on their gods for help in a brief hunt.

Slowly, Bloodhound remembers how they were able to excel in these Games. When they read more about the effects, they start to understand why they're in them. Some people experience PTSD after a Game and never return, some get addicted to the adrenaline rush, some are there for the thrill of the kill, and others strive for the reward. The reward is a very generous sum of money collected from wealthy sponsors and companies alike who watch the sport. This along with the title of Apex Champion for six months have driven people to do drastic things to win.

By the end of their night, Bloodhound understands why they're there. They don't remember everything, but they know why they would have tested the Apex waters and why they continue to play. It makes them itch for the morning, so they might win. They're not sure what King's Canyon looks like or what kind of abilities enemies may have, or even the abilities their team has, but they know they want to find out. Bloodhound is excited to learn more about their team, about this 'ping' system, about the respawning, and how they're all somehow not really down here.

There's still quite some time before the sun rises. Bloodhound spent most of their time chatting with Pathfinder about good times he wants to remind Bloodhound of. They don't remember, but they think they're interesting stories. Eventually, they send good night wishes to the robot and thanks for his help. It'll be much easier to get through the next day with this information. Pathfinder offers to keep watch while Bloodhound rests a bit. He's 'rested' his limbs and is able to stay alert for the next forty eight hours without a hitch. Bloodhound relents when an extremely sad emoticon fills the screen for a solid thirty seconds. They sigh, stretch their legs, and lay down beside Mirage, wondering what new things they'll remember in the morning.

—

As the sun rises and attempts to shine through the dirty window, Bloodhound is pleased to find a nice ray of sunlight they can sit in front of. They had only slept an hour or so, but they feel rested. Pathfinder allowed Bloodhound to take the last watch. Although they didn't think this well-hidden spot needed such surveillance, they trusted their teammates knew when to be wary. They seat themself directly in front of the only ray of light so they can take out the pinch of soil they took from the forests. In their other hand, Bloodhound has a bit of sand that's scattered around the room. They sift through each pile intently, feeling and seeing every imperfection and perfection of the fake land.

Mirage finds them this way, curled up in a corner where a ray of light shines off the glass and metal of their equipment to make stars in the room. Bloodhound notices the man stretch and yawn but they continue to investigate the fine mixtures with mild interest.

"How's the sand today, your highness? To your liking?" Mirage says. He's smirking when Bloodhound rolls their eyes at the tease and lets the minerals fall from their hands. There are more exciting things to learn about. Mirage's smirk falters. "Hey, I didn't mean it. Well, I did - but as a good morning, babe, really."

They pause a moment, thinking. Mirage wants to express his good wishes for the day with a joke. They know this, and want to return the exclamation. Bloodhound shifts a bit, preparing to form the words 'good morning' or something similar in English.

"U-m," they begin brokenly. Mirage's eyes widen in surprise at the sound but they continue, "M… ning… ah - g- uh, d-d--" They huff and swear sofly to themself, "Skìt." _Shit._

Mirage's mouth opens and closes for a moment before a rush of words come out, "Oh god, I broke you. Is it because I called you 'babe'? Are you trying to t-tell me off? Does it - Cuz I can totally stop if you want. You--"

"S-sto… p… No--" Bloodhound tries to interrupt him to stop Mirage from jumping to conclusions or feeling guilty. They put their hands up to try to express a mistake.

The sounds just don't come out. There's something keeping them from forming the words, even though they can understand English seamlessly. It's frustrating not being able to sound the words out, especially when they get one out but at the wrong time. Mirage already thinks he's done something wrong. He groans and wipes his face in anxiety.

"Ugh, yeah, okay, I'll stop. Sorry, Hound, y-you don't know me. You don't… know me," Mirage trails off. A hand comes up to scratch his neck self-consciously.

Bloodhound is the one who feels guilty now. They shake their head quickly. "Nr. Nr, E-Elliott - I - uh - m… tr-try-ry--"

For a different reason now, Mirage's eyes widen. He whispers, "You know me…" The man crawls closer in excitement, "Y-you know me?!"

Bloodhound shrugs but keeps their hands up in urgency. Though they know Mirage's name now, it doesn't mean they know him. They're just trying to say 'good morning' but the man instantly thought they got upset because of some name he called them. Bloodhound couldn't care less, they just want to express their good wishes in a way he understands.

"That's amazing! You're learning! Slowly, but yeah, learning! Even if it's just me, that's cool too. I'm awesome to remember but--"

Bloodhound promptly presses a hand to his mouth. They shake their head slowly in regret. They don't know him, but he's so excited to know otherwise. Mirage turns confused behind the glove. They lower their head a bit, saying, "Afsakið ruglinginn…" _Excuse me for the confusion_. "Ég þarf…" They look toward where Pathfinder has shut down for the night, "hjálp." _I need help._

Mirage doesn't try to say anything when Bloodhound releases the gentle pressure on his mouth. He looks confused, but seems to understand that they need Pathfinder for a quick translation. The two of them get the robot up and running soon, Mirage telling him they need some help before they all get back to business. Pathfinder easily agrees, a microphone displayed on his screen when he turns to Bloodhound.

The hunter sighs, coming close so the robot can hear them speak softly. "Afsakið ruglinginn…" They repeat first. A line a translation appears in the moments they take to find more words. "Ég man þig ekki, Elliott. Ég er að reyna að tala ensku. Það er erfitt núna…"

Before Bloodhound checks the man's expression, they check the translation. It reads: _I don't remember you, Elliott. I'm trying to speak English. It's hard now…_ They turn to see Mirage reading the screen in barely concealed defeat. It quickly turns to a nonchalant shrug with a smile.

"That's alright you don't remember me, Hound," he brushes it off, a hand still at his neck self-consciously. "And it's real cool you're trying to speak English. I can't speak Icelandic, so you're already a hundred times ahead of me, you know? Even Octane is bi-bilingual. It's all cool, it's cool, don't worry. I'm not worried."

"Elliott…" They say, understanding he's upset.

"No, no, it's cool," he counters quickly. A hand waves around to express something casual. "Yeah, I - I'm just - So you weren't, uh, upset I called you - um - cuz you don't know me and so you don't…. know… me? But I know you so… Is it bad? Path, is that bad?"

Pathfinder's joints creak when he looks between his teammates. First at Mirage, then Bloodhound, then back at Mirage, until a question mark appears. "I do not believe I was conscious when you said what you are referring to," he states. "Using context clues and my excellent understanding of you, may I ask if you are referring to your flirtatious advances to our amnesic teammate?"

Mirage flinches like he’s been internally struck. His face turns red before he quickly covers it with both hands and falls onto his back. Strained, he says, "Yep. When you put it that way, it's bad. It's kinda real bad. Like morally. They don't - don't even know me. I'm taking ad-adv- ertise - advan -tige--"

"Elliott," Bloodhound says again, this time with a little more feeling because he seems to like the name better than 'Mirage.' "Mér er alveg sama hvað þú hringir í mig. Ég er ekki í uppnámi við þig. Aldrei"

It takes a moment for Mirage to gather the strength to look at Pathfinder's screen. When he does, he visibly relaxes. _I don't care what you call me. I'm not upset with you. Never._ There’s an expression on his face that Bloodhound can’t quite place. A genuine smile is at his lips but his body language is still reserved, his eyes trying not to meet theirs. He doesn’t seem to know how to respond so Bloodhound speaks again.

“Mig langar að leika.” _I want to play._

Mirage glances at Pathfinder’s screen. His eyes might have popped out of his head if he didn’t squeeze them shut when he began choking. He sputters and bangs on his chest for a moment, Bloodhound and Pathfinder watching him curiously. “What?” he wheezes out.

“Apex,” Bloodhound states. “Ég vil spila Apex Games.” _I want to play the Apex Games._

“OH. Okay, yes. Let’s - let’s play. Let’s get going. Pathfinder, do you have everything? Are you ready? Okay, yeah, let’s head on out.”

Without further ado, the three gather their belongings and leave the building quickly, slipping out through one of the first broken windows they find. The three stick close to the buildings as they calmly exit the small town. Though no one is around, they shouldn’t be open targets. Bloodhound stands tall as they walk, breathing in the air, the subtle dust picking up into their mask. They see what they assume is an artificial sun in the distance, just above eye level but not above the buildings, indicating it’s still early in the morning. They know from the previous day how real that sun can be when they’re walking through the desert during its peak. It’s best if they all leave the desert before it gets too hot.

Mirage and Pathfinder step on either side of Bloodhound before they all leave the town. The robot presses something on his arm, which makes a noise emit from Bloodhound’s earpiece. “Let’s go this way,” Pathfinder says. Mirage checks the equipment on his arm, Bloodhound following suit. “There is a survey beacon near there. It is best we find a location to secure before more squads are eliminated.”

“Yep,” Mirage agrees after barely glancing at his minimap. He’s clearly familiar with the entire map, at least more than Bloodhound is. They’re still trying to find the point the robot ‘pinged.’ They mess with the magnifying features for a bit, then the arrows that move the screen up and down. Eventually, they find it on a block-like shape sandwiched between two excessively squiggly points Bloodhound assumes are mountains. They adjust their screen again before nodding to themself, still following their teammates beside them.

They walk in relative silence crossing the desert. Bloodhound doesn’t mind, they understand how vulnerable they are out in the open. At some point, Pathfinder stops the group, announcing his ‘ultimate’ is ready. They don’t know what that means until he sticks a pole in the ground, points somewhere out in front of them, and releases a long line of rope from somewhere on his body. It secures itself on another pole out in the distance that can hardly be seen. Bloodhound blinks, surprised. They did not expect that.

Pathfinder immediately jumps on it, exclaiming “Whee!” as he flies down the zipline. Mirage steps up to it and prepares to do the same until Bloodhound stops him with a hand on his arm. The man turns to them, confused for a second before noticing the way Bloodhound just stands there. They don’t need to say anything for Mirage to smirk in understanding.

“This here’s a zipline,” he says, showing it off like a piece of jewelry. “You grab on to it, and let it take you where it goes.”

Bloodhound approaches it with interest. It’s merely a rope tightened to a pole. It must be very strong to be called an ‘ultimate.’ “Bara grípa það?” they ask, before remembering Mirage doesn’t have a translator. Mirage frowns, so they try to translate themself. “J-jus… ah - gra… grip? Th-d-this?”

The sounds are broken and heavily buried in their accent, but they make their point. Mirage definitely seems to understand because he smirks suddenly. He comes up right behind them to take their arm gently in his hand, leading it to the rope.

He whispers close to Bloodhound's ear, "Yep, just… grip it…" Bloodhound doesn't pay attention to his tone, only to the way their glove seems to be drawn to the rope like two magnets. "Feel it?" Mirage hums.

Bloodhound nods, taking their hand away to inspect their glove. They felt more than just the pull. They continue to feel a tingling sensation through their palm and up their fingers, something they have the urge to itch, something like familiarity.

"If you're ever a little scared, you have this," Mirage tells them, pulling on a small rope attached to the jets at their belt. It has a metal clasp at the end that can help to secure them to the zipline safer. They're tugged a tad closer when Mirage pulls at their hips but he leaves before they can think much about it.

Mirage chuckles and grabs the rope in front of them. Then he winks and jumps, trusting the rope as he travels down it backward. Bloodhound sees this, trusts it too, and quickly grabs the rope. It seems to melt with their palm, locking it in place like iron. Then they jump.

It's an interesting feeling. There's a mixture of anxiety of falling and adrenaline from rushing down so fast. Then there's more familiarity. They feel alive with the wind rushing through their mask, pushing against their clothes, rattling the charms on their helmet. The speed they reach is not too fast, but fast enough to have their stomach lurching, a feeling they haven't felt in a long time. They grip the rope tighter, knowing it won't slow them down.

In the few seconds it takes to reach the end of the line, Bloodhound is filled with joy and a little adrenaline. They jump off the zipline as if they've done it a thousand times, falling to crouch where their teammates are waiting. They suddenly feel better after that short ride. More alert. They struggle to suppress a giggle the familiarity brings them. They remember the ziplines. They remember how fun they are.

When Bloodhound stands, Mirage is flashing a grin and Pathfinder is showing one as well. "Welcome!" the robot greets.

Mirage asks, "Good?"

They nod quickly, "Good."

The three continue to the building Pathfinder pinged earlier. Bloodhound, alert, yet somehow relaxed, in their comfort zone. Pathfinder, impassive, striding mechanically, occasionally looking to the sides. Mirage, confident, jogging like he could go for another hundred meters without a break.

"So, Hound, I was thinking," Mirage says after about five minutes. Pathfinder glances at the two of them a moment. Mirage turns so he's jogging backwards, a smirk on his face that widens once he sees Bloodhound is listening.

"You said you don't care what I call you, right?" They shrug. There's nothing wrong with nicknames, as long as they are not made with bad intentions and Bloodhound knows they're being addressed. Mirage continues, grinning. "And you're not upset about my - what Path calls - _flirting_?" They shrug again. Flirtatious actions are usually not bad. In this situation, they take it as a compliment for being pleasant to be around. "So does all this mean you like it?"

Bloodhound trips. They right themself before falling but the feeling is still there. Mirage laughs, clearly happy with the answer. "Aw, come on, Houndie, no need to go falling for me."

Pathfinder laughs out loud. "That is a good pun!"

"Thank you, Pathfinder." Mirage turns to Bloodhound. "Don't you agree?" They don't answer. "There's nothing wrong with a little flirting, Hound, don't be shy. What I'm taking from this is that you'd like me to keep going. Or not, you know, whatever you want. But just know," he steps in line with their pace, smirking, "I'd really love to keep going…"

Mirage is still jogging backwards, but closer to them now, at their pace, a little farther up. He leaves footprints for them to step in, Bloodhound notices, but not like the ones they're seeing father ahead. Instead of answering the man, Bloodhound puts an arm out to slow him down and urge him to the side a bit. A flash of guilt instantly covers his expression, but Bloodhound doesn't look.

They slow down, crouching low to observe the footprints ahead. They're not like the ones Mirage had left, and they're definitely not from Pathfinder. They stop completely now and the other two follow.

"Did you find footprints, friend?" Pathfinder inquires, crouching to their level too.

Bloodhound nods. They touch them softly, observing the give of the sand at the edges, the way the wind blows dust into the sunken prints. Fresh. Maybe a few minutes old. They stand, looking around the desert horizon for outlines of the body that made the prints. No one. Mirage and Pathfinder follow Bloodhound as they follow the tracks carefully, trying to figure out where they might lead. They don't know the area well.

"If the tracks go straight, then they go straight to Bunker," Mirage states. Bloodhound tilts their head at him, unfamiliar with the place. They point straight out anyway. He sighs, "Yeah, Bunker. That's where we're going."

Bloodhound is surprised, they look up at the robot. "Fre-ss," they try to say. "Þeir munu vera þar." _They will be there._

" _That_ fresh?" Mirage groans when reading the translation. "No offense but it's hot and I was hoping we'd stay safe until we got inside. At least."

Pathfinder, however, wears a smile. "I say go get them! We know they are there, they don't know we are behind them. We will have the advantage." He turns to Bloodhound. "Didn't you say you wanted to play? Let's play!"

Excited, Bloodhound nods. They point to where the tracks lead with passion. "Fljótt!" _Quickly,_ they say, then resume the run to this 'Bunker.'

The squad arrives at Bunker in just a few minutes. Bloodhound set the pace at a faster jog than how they all started out. When they see tall walls made of something much more industrial than concrete, they slow down to a cautious yet fast walk.

The walls are big, likely surrounding the entire Bunker's entrance. They seem to be built inside the enormous mountains beside them too. The height of the walls is about that of a two story building and their width is possibly as thick as the vehicles scattered around them. As far as Bloodhound can see, there is no access to the other side of the wall from where they came from. Mirage and Pathfinder don't seem undeterred.

"Okay, let's make a plan," Mirage says in a low voice, breathless from the run. He crouches beside the wall with a serious expression. Bloodhound follows his action, interested in the plan. "Hound doesn't have a gun, so we're gonna have to think smart on this one. Once we get one down, they can snatch theirs up and we'll have a better chance at wiping them."

Pathfinder's screen displays a serious looking emoticon with a flat green hat as if from a military uniform. He lowers his voice to just above a whisper in order not to alert any enemies. "That is a good idea. It is best we pick someone off from the edges as quietly as possible before rushing the rest. What do you think, Bloodhound?"

Bloodhound's heart is thudding against their chest in anticipation for a thrill. They enjoy the idea of being quiet, stalking the weakest of the group of prey to get an advantage. They nod in agreement. "Yes," they say. "Mig langar að ná einu."

Pathfinder translates: _I want to catch one._

Slowly, Bloodhound can see a grin creep onto Mirage's face as he reads it. There's a spark in his eyes Bloodhound feels. They wiggle their fingers in excitement, drawing Mirage's attention to them and only making his grin widen.

"Good," he says, looking at Bloodhound. "I think we should give the lil straggler to Hound, don't you think, Pathfinder? We'll see how much they remember on their own."

Pathfinder thinks on this a moment. He brings a hand up to his camera as if rubbing his chin, "Yes, I think that will be beneficial. Wraith suggested putting them in situations they can regain memories from. This will help for future battles."

Again, Bloodhound nods. They're ready. They want to do it. They want to see their prey first though, and that's a little difficult with the wall separating the two squads. The three could try to find the entrance but that could have them lose any advantage. Bloodhound pats the wall beside them, pointing up in urgency. "H- ah - ow? I-dth is hár." _Tall._

Pathfinder stands up in a powerful stance. There's a star on his screen when he points at the top of the wall. "No worries, friend. I will help us up."

Suddenly, a rope is ejected from the robot's arm. It shoots to the top of the wall where it becomes embedded by a grapple. Pathfinder uses it to swing himself up until the grapple detaches and he's on top of the wall. Mirage and Bloodhound stand, watching as a heavy rope is dropped down the side. It's thick enough to climb up the side of the wall with and join their teammate at the top.

There, the three lay as flat as they can against the wall to minimize the risk of being spotted. Like Bloodhound predicted, there is a squad of three people idly wandering the grounds below them. Bloodhound perks up, scooting a little closer to the edge to investigate them better. The area before them is unknown. It's large, scattered with long orange bins, big heavy crates, and broken down vehicles. One side is slightly more occupied with stuff than the other, providing more cover. The squad below is hardly spread out, making it difficult to find a straggler.

Bloodhound hums to themself, watching as two people crouch beside a limp body. One wrangles a bag from its arms as the other turns the body around to search its pockets. Bloodhound tries not to think of the incredibly disrespectful way they treat the body. Instead, they watch as the third enemy wanders off a couple meters away to one of the orange bins. It hisses when she opens it, revealing an impressive light machine gun.

Mirage shakes his head beside them, whispering quietly, "That's some serious weaponry."

Pathfinder nods. "I would feel more at ease if Bloodhound challenged her with a gun of their own for a better chance. Have this one."

Bloodhound doesn't look at him. They itch to be down there with their prey, getting closer and closer to a satisfying kill. They glance to the side to look for a way down. A little farther away, there's a pile of crates stacked just high enough for them to jump down from the wall comfortably. Silently, they head for it.

They're stopped by a hand at their sleeve. Mirage looks at them like they're crazy. He narrows his eyes, "No, take the gun." Bloodhound glances at the one presented to them, the same gun that Pathfinder had shot Mirage with the night before. They don't need it. They shake their head and continue to the crates. Mirage grabs them harsher. " _No,_ Bloodhound. Take it. We'll be watching you but you need better protection down there."

With a scowl neither teammate can see, Bloodhound grabs the gun silently. They won't need to shoot it, but maybe it can serve for another use later. Swiftly, they descend the wall in the split second the none of the enemies are turned their way. They huff quietly as they fall to all fours in a practiced manner. The woman does not notice. She's still in the middle of the deck inspecting the weapon. Bloodhound is on the side with the least cover. They need to move quickly.

Bloodhound crawls forward, tilting their head this way then that way, trying to listen for the enemy's footsteps when they have no visual of her. They move in and out of cover until they're much closer, their heart beating faster and faster with each step. She's at a different bin now, adding attachments to her new gun, oblivious to the hunter just a few meters away. They can hear the squad talking to each other about where to move next. They'll regroup soon. Bloodhound knows they don't have much time, but they relish in the feeling of watching their prey.

She's right in front of them. They could shoot her now and kill her instantly. They don't, however, because that wouldn't be fun. Bloodhound hums to themself, gazing at her in the same way she gazes at her weapon. On the sides, Bloodhound notices the attentive way the other two teammates search through crates around them. It seems they all like to find eye-catching things. Bloodhound grins and moves farther back.

They sit near the wall now, close to where they came down from earlier. From here, they can see Mirage frowning at them, clearly unimpressed at watching them miss so many opportunities for a kill. Pathfinder is not paying attention, only watching the enemy squad in case they become alerted.

"Use the fucking gun," Mirage whispers. The words travel through their earpiece clearly. Bloodhound looks down at the large gun Pathfinder let them borrow. They point at it and look up at Mirage. He nods slowly, "Yes, that thing. Pull the trigger."

Bloodhound maintains eye contact with the man as they crawl slightly out of cover, extend the arm holding the gun, and drop the weapon to the ground. Mirage plants his face into the wall. Bloodhound smirks and crawls back into cover. They turn their attention to the woman to wait patiently for her to take the bait.

Pathfinder's gun is beautiful and shining. It's black with gold honeycombs decorating the body and an animal's skull at the barrel. Just as Bloodhound expects, the woman's eyes light up with glee when she sees it laying innocently on the ground. When she smiles and skips over, Bloodhound squirms in their spot. They bite their lip and slip out their hunting knife. She comes closer. Closer. She's only an arm's length away. She hasn't noticed them. Though she's holding two guns and they are only wielding a knife, they know the advantage is in their hands. They love this feeling. The feeling of a hunt.

Bloodhound can plainly hear her telling her teammates about the gun she just picked up as if she were speaking directly to them. It has them shaking where they sit, not from fear, but from excitement. The knife in their hand could slip out easily from their grip from the way they fiddle with it so anxiously. But they can only hold themself back for so long. They want to catch her properly now.

In a split second decision, Bloodhound lunges for her. They wrap an arm around her chest to bring her down and cover her mouth as the other hand slips around to press their blade at her throat. There's fear in her eyes as she tries to call for help but Bloodhound effectively muffles it with their glove between her teeth. They glance around cautiously though, just in case someone noticed. But no one can see the two of them, not even Bloodhound's teammates. They sigh pleasantly with a grin, feeling the weight against their chest as she squirms in their hold, the heat on their hand when she tries to yell or bite, the beat of their blade as it moves with her pulse. Her hands are not pinned, but she's too weak to free herself. Her legs are not pinned, but the angle Bloodhound's holding her down at doesn't give her any leverage. They wrap a leg around her hip to press down at her thigh anyway to keep her from moving so much, to keep her pinned a little more secure. They've caught her.

Pathfinder's voice can be heard through the earpiece, asking if they've killed her yet. They don't really want to. All of their satisfaction comes from the hunt, the stalk, the catch. Mirage repeats the question more urgently when they don't answer. The reason they came down alone was because they needed to find a weapon and reduce the enemies for their squad. Bloodhound knows this, and knows they need to help their team.

They take a breath and slice her throat swiftly. She chokes in the blood, thrashing even harder now that she knows she's dying. Bloodhound doesn't mind the blood getting over their clothes because they know it's not real. They had cut her rather deeply, intending for it to be a quick death, but she held out longer than they anticipated and now they're worried she made too much noise.

They get their answer when they hear nervous shouting coming from the other side. Her teammates are calling her name, running around trying to look for her. Bloodhound acts fast. They roll her body off themself, placing the gun she found to her chest, her hand on top of it. They take Pathfinder's gun back and stand out of cover to draw the rest of the team to them. Mirage and Pathfinder are watching, so they aren't worried.

When the two enemies spot them, they shout and pull out their own weapons. Bloodhound runs out of their sight at the same time a shot comes from above. One of the enemies yell in pain and Bloodhound can see him grab at his shoulder. Mirage continues to round off his gun when the team switches their attention to him. Though they get shot repeatedly, neither suffer headshots nor fall in weakness.

Shots are fired at Mirage and Pathfinder but all either miss them both or hit Pathfinder as he grapples himself over their heads and behind them. His screen shows a red, angry emoticon with a bandage around its head. Mirage jumps down right after soon. During the change in position, the enemy team retreats behind a truck.

"Path, catch!" Bloodhound yells. They come out of cover and toss the robot his weapon. He catches it quickly with a thumbs up.

Bloodhound stays back a few paces. They know Mirage plays aggressive and Pathfinder will follow if he has the advantage. The hunter watches as Mirage sends out a decoy to run around the truck with him, Pathfinder running in from the other side. The decoy is shot first, letting Mirage take a shot at the team. Before he can pull the trigger though, a flash of orange light bursts from behind the truck.

Bloodhound watches as their teammates shout and shut their eyes, falling to the ground on all fours. They've been blinded, and though they're forced to the ground, they still have mobility. Bloodhound was waiting for an attack like this. They rush forward. One enemy runs away again while the other takes these few seconds to shoot at Mirage. He rolls to the side and covers his head as her bullets spray into his ribcage. He's still blind, and has no idea where to go for cover.

Before the enemy can finish her kill, Bloodhound is at her side. They disarm her and hit her in the face with the butt of the gun. None of it seems to faze her because then she's scowling at Bloodhound and quickly curling her hands into fists. Bloodhound grins and throws the gun to the ground before dodging a punch she throws.

They return the punch, but is blocked. Bloodhound sees the fire in her eyes, the way she watches their movements rather than their glass eyes. She knows how to fight hand to hand and they're more than pleased to participate. Each punch they throw is either blocked or dodged. Each time she returns the attack, she's treated the same. On the off chance she does get a hit in, Bloodhound is quick to twist her position and strike from the side. They're so evenly matched, it seems to get on her nerves. It's much the opposite for Bloodhound, who's smiling at each hit they give or receive. The urgency of the situation, the threat that their team may get defeated, has their blood pumping faster and faster. They love the thrill of a fight.

Suddenly, her eyes widen at something behind them. She changes tactics and grabs at Bloodhound to turn them around instead of trying to directly hurt them. They're confused for just a moment before they realize Mirage is up, bloody, and pulling the trigger right at the two of them. The enemy uses Bloodhound as a shield from the bullets meant for her. Fortunately for Bloodhound, each bullet bounces off rather uselessly. Unfortunately for Mirage, his attacks continue to be deflected. Friendly Fire still feels real, but Bloodhound is less focused on the pain of getting shot at and more focused on making sure Mirage gets a clear shot.

Mirage scowls when he sees the way Bloodhound is pinned to her front like a human shield. He tries to get a better angle but the hunter is jostled to cover her again and Pathfinder is saying something about taking fire. He huffs and limps off quickly, leaving Bloodhound to kick at the enemy and free themself in the blink of an eye.

Curiously, she smirks. Bloodhound tilts their head, trying to figure out why. They barely get their arms up when she attacks differently this time. She doesn't swing, but rather jabs. Bloodhound's breath hitches when they notice the hand they just deflected carries a knife. Their hunting knife. She must have found it when she pulled them against her for cover. The way she's smirking shows she thinks she's got the upper hand now. Bloodhound's body shivers in excitement. The two might be evenly matched when it comes to hand to hand combat, but when there are knives involved, Bloodhound knows how to tip the scales.

She attacks again, aiming for their neck. They side step it, and push her to their side. She uses the momentum to strike at their ribs. Bloodhound watches her crouch to do this and quickly swipes at her legs, knocking her back. She's smart and grabs their arm to take them down with her. Anticipating this, Bloodhound holds her tight as the two fall, twisting her arm so when they fall on top of her, the knife is trapped between their bodies and she impales herself.

Slowly, Bloodhound gets up. They watch as the enemy spits out blood and curls her hands at her sides. There's still anger in her eyes, even as a knife is embedded deep in her chest. Bloodhound tilts their head down at her. They won, but she refuses to believe it. Normally, Bloodhound would take their knife and leave. But now, they kneel beside her, grip the handle, and twist it harshly before pulling it down. She screams in agony as the blade runs from her chest down to her hips. They gut her open while she yells, a rewarding sound they didn't know they needed.

As Bloodhound wipes off their knife and watches consciousness blink out from her eyes, they hear the echoes of that scream. It makes them shiver. In a good way and a bad one. They don't want to bring pain to others, human or not, but they really wanted to make sure she stayed down. They've encountered some people who leave the blade in to continue fighting. It's curious, and honorable, but Bloodhound wanted this kill. It feels like they're experiencing it for the first time all over again, except without so much guilt now knowing people - and robots - continue to put themselves in this situation.

When Bloodhound sheathes their knife, they notice their team limping toward them. Mirage has a lopsided grin on his face even as blood is coming out of his mouth and an arm is wrapped around his stomach. Pathfinder has a few dents and leaks around his body but the bandaged emoticon on his screen still wears a smile.

Bloodhound rushes to Mirage first, seeing as he's drenched in his own blood. The man simply swats their hands away and nods to the woman's body on the ground. "So how was it?" he asks. He takes a little longer look and scrunches his nose distastefully but keeps his attention on the hunter.

Bloodhound looks up at him a moment to think about it. They tilt their head with a small nod. "Perfect."

Mirage wiggles his eyebrows, "Thank you, but I was asking about the fight." Bloodhound rolls their eyes and pushes Mirage to sit on the ground where Pathfinder is already patching himself up. He winces as he leans on the robot's body to dig through some of his pockets.

"I'm serious, Hound," Mirage continues, wiping the blood from his lips casually. He grunts in pain a bit when he pours some type of liquid over his wounds. "You killed both of them with your little knife there. It was kinda cool. And terrifying. Mostly terrifying. Yet real impressive. But, uh, please don't do that to me, Houndie. I mean, unless you want. You can impale me with anything and I'd still thank you, if you know what I mean."

Mirage chuckles and winks at them before doubling over in pain. Bloodhound does, in fact, know what he means, but is more worried about their team's health than Mirage's innuendos. They quickly but carefully search through the pockets of the motionless body beside the group. They take out syringes and bandages with a quiet 'thank you' to bring for their team. Bloodhound pushes the syringes into Mirage's hands as they go to help Pathfinder fix a few leaks.

"I would never kill you that way, Mirage," Bloodhound tells him. "I am unsure even she deserved it. Next time, I will use the gun, as you asked."

Bloodhound feels a little bad about killing them so impulsively. They should've done it quickly and as painless as possible either with the gun Pathfinder gave them, or the gun they disarmed from the other enemy. Instead, they drew out both kills for the fun of it. Mirage has gone quiet, so Bloodhound continues as they patch up the robot.

"I did not know who I was for too long," they say quietly. "I found myself in the hunt. I wanted them… to know who I was as well." _The Apex Predator._

Mirage stays uncharacteristically silent for a moment. Bloodhound is cleaning off Pathfinder's screen and camera when he speaks. "Ye-ah, I was kinda surprised you knew what you were doing. N-not in a bad way! Like, I know you know what you're doing. You've been - doing for years. But it kinda just came out, like, you were careful at first but then you - you knew… what… to do..."

Pathfinder gives a thumbs up and a nod. "I agree. It was clear you were being careful when bringing the first enemy down. Then you understood how to bring down the other. Now you are speaking English!" A happy face shows on his screen as he claps. "Wraith was right! You did remember once we put you into a familiar situation!'

Bloodhound smiles. "Yes. I believe I have my memories back. The fight was fun, and it was familiar."

"I thought it was fun too!" Pathfinder laughs and offers up a hand for a high five. Normally, Bloodhound wouldn't participate. They're more of a firm handshake sort of person, or a slap to the shoulder person on occasions. But they feel closer to the robot for some reason. More familiar. He feels like an old and new friend all at once, so Bloodhound bows their head with a chuckle and awkwardly presses their hand to his palm. Awkward or not, Pathfinder accepts it with another celebratory shout.

Soon, the squad is off again. They only took a few moments to gather supplies. Mirage and Pathfinder have had a stable array of loot for a while since they haven't been eliminated. Bloodhound on the other hand, needed to stock up on a few healing items and a weapon. The number of remaining squads has dropped to 4, so they know they only need to have enough supplies for one or two battles.

Mirage leads the squad through the Bunker. They all take a collective sigh once they're out from under the beating desert sun. Bloodhound knows there's a river on the other side, so they're glad to finally be out of the area. The walk through the underground facility only takes about ten minutes, but without the constant push and pull of sand against foot, the often deafening winds of the sandy hills, or the general difficulty of crossing a desert, the walk through the Bunker seems to take an eerily long time.

All through the facility and even out by the river, the only sound seems to come from Pathfinder's mechanical legs. He quietly squeaks with each stride and it would be amusing if it didn't feel like it was thunder alerting enemies of their location. Bloodhound somewhat remembers there being more communication when it comes to being in a squad. At least when being in a squad with Mirage. To try to combat the silence, Bloodhound calls for a brief meeting to more precisely choose their destination.

As expected, the meeting goes swimmingly. Bloodhound points to a general area the squad is already headed, Pathfinder points out a common combat location inside the next ring, and Mirage marks a couple landmarks that'll help them all get there faster. The meeting is adjourned and the silence continues.

They don't meet any other enemies on the way, which is a shame because Bloodhound wants to feel like they're climbing up in the remaining ranks rather than waiting it out. They don't seem to be the only one itching for a battle. Pathfinder is leading the group now and often stops to survey around them cautiously. Mirage stays at the back, glancing behind and to the sides at every odd moment in search for enemies. They continue on, past the river, between rocky mountains, until they're on flat, burnt land. A tall zip wire greets them as they exit the mountains. It reaches so far into the sky, Bloodhound can barely see the red balloon that tops it.

Pathfinder reaches its metal base first. He climbs up the structure easily before grabbing onto the line with a small jump. He swings slightly but is carried up the zipwire and out of sight. Bloodhound slows down to watch this. They like to wait a few beats before jumping on after a teammate so they know a safer distance to land. Too many times has Bloodhound zipped up too early and landed too far or too close to their teammate because they couldn't see where they were headed.

Bloodhound glances back as they wait these few moments. They notice Mirage catching up to the structure after surveying the open land. He's careful not to trip on the dead land on his way to the base. Bloodhound watches him silently. He has been unusually quiet this past hour. Though he communicates when it comes to the task at hand, pointing out open crates and care packages in the distance, he stays silent on the journey. There's no joking, odd noises, or messing around with decoys like Bloodhound thinks they remember. They're not sure if that's real, but they know he's not like the Mirage they met when they were respawned. Bloodhound finds they miss him skipping backwards to talk to them with a grin or showing off his decoys like he's in a circus.

They feign hesitation at the jump tower's base, shuffling their feet and glancing between the rope and Mirage shyly. When Mirage meets them, he notices. He raises an eyebrow and takes a step back.

"Do you, uh, wanna go first?" he asks with uncertainty.

Bloodhound tilts their head at his response. He sees their hesitation but doesn't act the way they expect, so they lower their head and gesture to the line vaguely. "I do not…" they begin quietly, "This one is different…"

Mirage's eyebrows furrow and he opens his mouth rather uselessly. "Huh?"

Bloodhound huffs, fiddling with their hands as they step closer to the man. "It is different from the one Pathfinder had made…" they say. They watch his expression carefully though their head remains tilted down. "Is it not…? I don't- I may be unfamiliar… with this one."

Slowly, his eyes widen as realization sets in. Mirage clears his throat and blinks. "Oh, um, well." He steps up to the line, presenting it like he had the previous zipline, but with less enthusiasm and no grin. "This here's a jump tower. You gr- hold it, and it takes you up there, to that balloon. Then you jump off and fly wherever Path went. Which is, uh, that way I think. Yeah weast. Uh - west. East. The right."

They turn their head to follow his hands but their eyes stay focused on Mirage. He instructs them rather seriously, avoiding eye contact and speaking without examples. It's not what they expect or want. They stand beside him and look up at the balloon far in the distance.

"It is higher than anticipated." They turn to Mirage, who's staring up at the balloon like the two were in a serious conversation. "What if I fall?"

Mirage purses his lips, narrowing his eyes at the hunter for a thoughtful moment. "Well I guess you die," he states plainly. Then a small smile begins to tug at his lips for the first time in a while. He chuckles to himself a little. "The whole point is to fall. If you fall before you get to the top, I'm sure you'll freak out and catch it before you reach the ground."

Bloodhound watches him smile at them, hands on his hips, laughing a bit. They don't find it very amusing, and Mirage seems to be more nervous than anything. "I see," they say. They step to the side and gesture to the rope. "Will you go first?"

"Oh, yeah sure, of course. They say age before beauty," he begins, reaching for the zipline. Bloodhound's heart beats a little faster. "But I guess you've always been a little untraditional." He grabs it and zips up quickly with a cheeky grin and a wave to the hunter below.

Bloodhound watches him go forlornly. He didn't show them how the rope would pull their hand up, didn't tell them about the belt that could keep them safer, didn't show them how they might attach it. He didn't come close and smirk in their ear, whispering innuendos as he guides their hand to the new and exciting equipment, teaching them all they need to know.

"Are you okay, friend?" Pathfinder's voice chimes through their earpiece. His robotic voice rips through their thoughts like a dagger.

Quietly, Bloodhound sighs. They drop their head and grab the balloon expertly with a small jump. "I am alright. I was distracted by… the horizon. I thought I saw something."

"Oh no! Did you find anyone?"

"No. It was not what it seemed."

It only takes a minute to reach the top of the tower and fly to where their teammates are waiting. They land with a crouch, then approach their teammates with a curious look. The two are laughing.

"So when you say it just by itself, you don't need the 'the', you know?" Mirage tells the attentive robot. "Watch and learn." He clears his throat and assumes a casual stance. He walks past Pathfinder steadily before intentionally running into the metal leg. He grabs his knee and yells, "Fuck!"

Pathfinder nods as Mirage rights himself as if nothing happened. "Oh. I understand. Allow me." He straightens his posture and walks forward. In a few steps, he bumps into a blackened tree. There's a beat where he does nothing, then, "Fuck."

"There you go! Ex-extroy-din- awesome work!" Mirage congratulates. He laughs and claps with the smiling robot. They're high five-ing when Bloodhound walks over.

"What are you celebrating?" they ask carefully.

The smile on Mirage's face clearly falters when he notices the hunter. He opens and closes his mouth but no sounds come out. Pathfinder doesn't notice and speaks instead. "Mirage is teaching me new vocabulary and grammar! Today is the difference between 'what the fuck' and 'fuck'!"

Bloodhound sees the satisfied look on his screen, then turns to Mirage. The man is trying to keep a smile but he won't make eye contact. They step toward him gently. "Did you tell him they are bad words, Mirage?"

"Yeah, of course, Hound," Mirage says. He scratches his neck anyway, "I'm - I'm just having a little fun, you know? I know when to s-stop. He knows they're bad. He's an adult. We're - adults. Ye-ah, I'm m-mature. I can - stop..."

Mirage looks like he's about to explode. There's a mix of nervousness and something like fear in his expressions that Bloodhound can't understand. Just a few hours ago he was joking and teasing like there was nothing better to do. Though, just a few hours ago Bloodhound didn't know him, only knew him that way. They can't remember how they knew him before. Was it as the flirty trickster, or as a cautious teammate? The trickster might have always there and they've just never witnessed it so plainly.

Mirage has long since fled under Bloodhound's gaze and started the trek to their destination. Pathfinder followed, leaving Bloodhound just a few paces behind. They catch up, if only to say, "Mirage. I would like to speak with you."

The man stutters in his steps. He looks at them in surprise and curiosity, "Alright?"

When Bloodhound quickly puts themself between him and the robot, Pathfinder stops to shows a sad face on his screen, likely upset about being left out of a conversation. Bloodhound sees this, then frowns as well. "I am sorry, Pathfinder. Though we are friends and teammates, I want to speak to him alone."

They turn their back to the robot to tug at Mirage's arm gently, urging him to part from their teammate. They bring him beside a large black tree stump where bright orange ashes float up from on occasion. Pathfinder is left behind, watching them a few meters away with a question mark and a slightly upset frowning emoticon.

Mirage's eyebrows furrow when he's guided away and he looks like he's about to object, but as he watches Bloodhound's hand come up to jostle their mouthpiece, he snaps his mouth close. "Elliott," they say as clearly as possible. Mirage looks confused before realizing they're not speaking through the team's com link. He rips out his earpiece to do the same.

"Y-yeah?" He licks his lips nervously under Bloodhound's gaze but keeps his eyes narrowed. "Did I-- Are you upset because I was teaching him 'fuck'? Cuz what the fuck? I mean - I'm sorry. M-maybe I shouldn't do it in the Games but, like, it's only for fun. Really. I can stop though, if--"

"Elliott. That is not what I want to talk to you about."

He stops and blinks, then his eyes grow wide. He speaks hurriedly, “Is it because you remember what I--”

“Elliott, please-” Bloodhound shakes their head with a step forward. Mirage steps back. They notice and freeze, closing their hands by their side anxiously. Mirage's eyes flicker down to them for a moment. "Please... be honest with me."

"O-okay."

"Are you afraid of me?" they ask curiously. Mirage’s eyes widen slightly, his mouth opens, and something like realization crosses his features but Bloodhound can't quite understand. Why is he surprised by the question? Has he been caught? Bloodhound purses their lips and takes a step forward without thinking. They try to keep their voice soft but their anxiety makes it sound tense. "Because you treated me very different when I did not know who you were."

"Well- um" Mirage stutters, backing up a pace to return the space. He puts his hands up slightly and doesn't make eye contact when he tries to laugh it off. “That was - uh. I was, um--” Bloodhound waits patiently but it seems to make him more nervous because he slumps a bit and his smile slips.

“I'm - I’m sorry about the way I treated you. Bloodhound. I really am. I only did it b-because you didn’t - know… any better.” Their head tilts. Mirage blanches. “God, no! I mean -- Actually, no, it’s true, but - God I fucked up. I’m a complete jerk. Sh-shit, Houn- Bloodhound, I’m sorry for saying all that a-and making you uncon- confirt- uncofirt- buddle. It was unpro- inpro- ff- ffes- st-tinal-- a-ah." Bloodhound watches his hands shake as he can't get the words out, running his hands through his hair but trying to finish his apology. He takes a breath to calm down, "I shouldn't've done that. If you don't wanna r-rez me or something, that's cool. You - you don't have to talk to me out-outside of the Games either. It's cool. I understand, Bloodhound, I do."

He’s biting his lip and he can't keep still. He could barely get out his words yet he pushed on just to apologize over something Bloodhound can't seem to care about. They barely listened because all they're worried about is how scared Mirage looks. They’ve never heard him stutter that bad. It was only ever over big words he speaks too fast for, never because he's afraid. Never because Bloodhound is just standing in front of him.

"You… you are afraid of me," they state quietly. It's not meant to be responded to, just meant for Bloodhound to come to terms with. It feels a little like their heart is breaking. Mirage is their friend. They only ever wished to have friends. Not to force people to act a certain way because they're afraid of what they'll do.

Mirage snorts and tries to laugh it off. "Who isn't?" he jokes, a hand rubbing at his neck as he glances up at them every other second. Bloodhound only stands there, dejected, as he begins to word vomit. "You t-took ages to grab that girl just so you could watch her and slit her throat. To _c-catch_ her. Then you didn't wanna use the gun just so you could beat the other girl to death. But e-even then you gutted her open when she was still alive. Not to mention your mask. It’s so unnerf- unvern- unnerving cuz I can’t see your face. I mean - I get it, really, you want privacy and all but- it just _adds_. Like, you just look unbothered. Like you didn’t e-even care.”

They don't reply for a moment. A moment where Mirage shuffles uncomfortably under their gaze. It takes a second to realize this is exactly what he was just talking about, so they speak. "If your aim is to make me feel guilty about what I did to them," they begin without audible emotion, - they're more sad than anything but it doesn't translate well without a visual - "then you don’t need to say a word. I have felt regret at treating them that way since it happened. I did acknowledge my mistake then. But I will apologize to you now, Elliott, I'm sorry."

"Ye-ah, well, you're still terrifying." Mirage shakes his head with a scoff. Even now, as he seems to be admitting pent up thoughts, he's trying to keep a smile, which hurts Bloodhound more than anything else. "You're still a fucking veteran of the Apex Games who's won like, five, six times in a row. Like damn, I've maybe had a streak of three, but _five_? And you've played like twice as long as me. You're - you're killer. And probably a killer. You've killed, but like, no one knows who you are. You could be a killer."

"Are you afraid of me because you do not think you know me? Or because I play the Games well?" they ask. Bloodhound has come to terms with him being afraid, now they want to know why. They want to dispel any of his worries, so he may treat them like he did before.

Mirage laughs nervously, "Both?"

They frown in defeat. Their body seems so heavy all of a sudden. How could they not notice their friend was so scared? So distressed? Because of them? They want to tell him he's wrong. He knows them. They show themself very plainly to their friends, who definitely include Mirage. They're very comfortable around him the way they're comfortable around friends back home. Just because they've been in this sport longer than he has does not mean they treat him any differently. These words are on the tip of their tongue but Mirage speaks and they forget them.

"I kinda feel like if I fucked around in here, you'd wreck me. Just cuz you can, you know? Cuz you could kill me, and you know it," Mirage admits with a self-conscious smile. Their silence seems to calm him and spur him into opening up more. "And you're probably like ten years older than me, too, so if I like, somehow dis- disrisp- specti- ed you, uh, you'd kill me then too. Cuz you’re… you. You know? O-of course you do."

Bloodhound closes their mouth and tilts their head, something in their mind connecting. They ask, "Did you flirt with me because I did not know I could kill you?"

Mirage’s eyes widen, clearly surprised at the change topic. “Uhhhhhhh,” he says, drawing the sound out as he looks around as if he'd find the answer in the trees, "maybe?"

Some kind of weight lifts from their shoulders. They understand everything now, but the problem is that Mirage doesn’t fully understand them. Bloodhound sighs, slightly relieved, while Mirage looks like he's been caught red handed. "Elliott," they say plainly. "I know who I am. And I know how a jump tower works."

In half a second, every part of Mirage stops screaming shame and starts showing confusion. "Huh?"

Bloodhound rolls their eyes. A gentle, forgiving smile is on their face even though he can’t see it. "I know I am the Bloodhound you talk of. I know I’ve played longer than you, won more Games than you, killed more, trained more. I know I can pull these cards and put you in your place.” Mirage shifts uneasily but Bloodhound continues, softer this time. “I know now that is why you are… afraid. To act too comfortably around me. But you must also be aware, that I know how a jump tower works." They tilt their head as they watch the cogs turn in Mirage’s head. “I do not need instruction. I did not need help.”

Soon enough, Mirage’s stance becomes more relaxed. He finally rests his hands and can maintain eye contact with them even if he narrows his eyes. Suspicious and confused, he asks, “Then… why did you say you did?”

Now it’s Bloodhound’s turn to feel ashamed. They jerk their head nervously and shift in place. Mirage raises an eyebrow at this. “I… perhaps wanted,” they explain slowly, “to have you teach me... the same way you taught me an hour before.”

Ever so slowly, a grin spreads over Mirage’s face. He leans back with a disbelieving scoff. His eyebrows are raised and he looks a mix of surprised and impressed. “You wanted me,” he states with a cheeky smile, "To show you how to use the zipline. Like I showed you how to use Path’s ult?”

Bloodhound huffs and zeros in on his grinning face. "That is what I said, is it not? I am not so different than I was before. My point is that--"

"Your point is what?" Mirage interrupts with a smirk. Bloodhound purses their lips at being cut off but allows him to continue, which quickly turns out to be the wrong choice. The man approaches Bloodhound slowly, lowers his gaze to take the hunter's gloved hands in his own, chuckles a little when their fingers twitch but don't move from their side. "That you… want me to hold your hand…" he says quietly, looking up at them with a cocky grin, trailing his hands up their arms until he can grab at their belt, then tugging on it suddenly. "And really show you the ropes?"

Bloodhound's heart skips a beat when they find themself inches away from the smirking man who's pulled them impossibly close. "Elliott," they say. It comes out quiet. Too quiet for their taste, but just what Mirage wants. He grins wider, if possible, but allows Bloodhound to lean back with a hand pushing his chest away. They clear their throat and try to compose themself.

"My point is that I do not care if you act so… freely," they tell him. His grin loses its seductive hint and he raises an eyebrow, but he seems relatively comfortable. "I allowed your… advances when I did not know who you were because I realized you are just a… fun and flirtatious person." He smiles with a wink. They try not to get distracted. "When I asked for help with the jump tower, I… admit that I hoped you might act that way again. Because even with my memory restored I knew I did not mind you acting in such a way." They lower their voice and watch as Mirage's face turns pink. "In the way that you did now…"

It takes a few moments for Mirage to do anything. He simply stands there, eyes unmoving, lips slightly open, staring at Bloodhound like they just explained to him the physics of life. Bloodhound is patient under his gaze, only glad he isn't avoiding eye contact now. After a bit, Mirage shifts his weight to one leg, scoffs a bit in disbelief, and asks, "So you tried to get me to flirt with you at the jump tower?"

Bloodhound closes their eyes as calmly as possible. They inhale very slowly, then exhale in a sigh they hope will keep them patient. "Mirage," they state, "that is not the point."

"Really?" he narrows his eyes with a teasing smile. "Because I think it is. I- I think it's important we point out that that was you trying to flirt back. In your own way. Right? Tell me I'm wrong here, Hound."

Promptly, they turn and leave. Bloodhound does not respond to his question partly because they don't want to give him the satisfaction of their answer and partly because they are sure Mirage is no longer afraid of them. That is all they truly want. To know those they are close to can be open with them. It's clear in the way Mirage jumps to catch up with them that he listened to and believed Bloodhound's explanation and is already willing to show himself more freely.

"So - so you like it when I flirt with you, Houndie?" Mirage asks, jogging backwards like he'd done before. "Looks like the big bad Bloodhound has a _crush_ -"

"Quiet." They put a hand up.

He trips, "W-what--?"

"Gunfire." Bloodhound quickly adjusts their equipment to listen to the team com link, checking their map and noticing Pathfinder is a hundred meters away. "Path, what is happening?"

"Engaging with the enemy!" he says cheerily.

"What!" Mirage yelps. He picks up his speed to sprint in the direction of the gunfire and their teammate. "What the hell! What are you doing? Stay put, we're on our way!"

"Ha ha! Too late, friend! Whole squad down!"

"Oh my god."

When the two catch up to Pathfinder in Wetlands, he's surrounded by four bodies. Bloodhound blinks at them, then at the smiling robot who's also searching their pockets for supplies. He stands when he sees them and waves, the smile getting brighter with stars in his eyes.

Mirage approaches him with a frown, hands on his hips. "What the fuck, Pathfinder! You got into a fight and didn't tell us? You could've been killed!"

Pathfinder leans forward, a hand coming up as if to place on his mouth in curiosity. There's a question mark on his screen as he says, "Should I have told you? You two seemed to be having a serious conversation. I didn't want to interrupt…"

"Fuck the conversation! You could've died!" Mirage yells. His eyes widen when he sees Bloodhound walking through the bodies toward them. "No offense, Hound." Then he crosses his arms with a frown.

"None taken." Bloodhound shakes their head to wave it off. Mirage is uncharacteristically upset about this, but they're glad he's serious about his team's health. Bloodhound turns to Pathfinder, who is still standing there was a question mark on the screen. "Tell us what happened, Path."

At the question, the robot seems to burst with joy. He jumps a little like an excited child as smiles appear. "It was quite entertaining!" he tells them. "When you two were talking, I was bored and climbed a tree. Then I saw two teams approaching each other and thought to myself, 'Hey! They're going to meet! I want to see that!' So I did! I jumped to this roof, then watched as they fought! One team died but the other was still alive, so I killed them. He was surprisingly healthy, but it was only two of them. Very fun!"

Bloodhound bows their head in understanding. "I see. Are you alright?"

"Yep! Not a scratch!" He gives a thumbs up.

"May we take some supplies as well?" Bloodhound asks. Though Pathfinder didn't kill all of them, he did find the bodies. It's only natural for the loot to be his first.

"Of course!" He points to the bloodied body of a man at his feet. "This one is mine though!"

The team loots up quickly. There is only one squad left and they're all still healthy since the last battle so there's not much to take. Bloodhound searches for any better supplies anyway, switching out attachments and organizing their bag. Once they deem themself ready for the next fight, they catch up to Mirage and Pathfinder, who are planning the team's next destination.

Before the ring closes, the three have stationed themselves in a small two story cabin in the middle of a dense forest similar to the one Bloodhound had been dropped into. This area's a little more secluded and is inside the next ring, which makes it a perfect place to camp. The last squad will definitely be on their toes and want to have the most security, so it's very likely they'll come to this spot soon. Bloodhound hadn't seen any footprints, nor any signs of life ever even touching the area when they came up. They made sure the team kept it that way to keep the cabin's illusion as a safe place the enemy can hide in.

It takes about half an hour of camping out in the building when, as expected, their enemies come creeping by. Mirage spots them first. He's been peeking out the south window to watch the treeline there and makes a muffled noise of surprise when he sees the first sign of movement.

"Over there," he whispers. "About 50 meters away. Damn trees. Couldn't see them coming."

Pathfinder and Bloodhound crawl quietly to Mirage's window to see three men make their way through the dense forests and toward the cabin cautiously. The women's squad that had helped Bloodhound had not made it to the end, Bloodhound sadly notes. They were hoping to have an exciting battle with them in thanks.

They hum quietly and turn to Mirage, "Okay. What is the plan now?"

Mirage blinks. He looks between Pathfinder and Bloodhound in surprise. "Y-you want me to think of a plan?"

"Yes."

Bloodhound will admit, they usually have not let others formulate plans that include high stakes for them. In times like these, Bloodhound prefers the squad to follow their plan to make sure there are no rookie mistakes. Now, Bloodhound realizes how selfish that can be. Though they are a veteran, Mirage and Pathfinder are obviously skilled enough to make the right decisions if they're put in the same lobbies as Bloodhound. They'll let Mirage choose the squad's plan, especially since Pathfinder seems to have no preference anyway after he successfully third-partied.

"Um, well.." Mirage fiddles with his gloves under the expectant gazes of the squad. He peeks outside again to see the enemies going for the north side of the cabin, where the main door is located.

He takes a breath and turns serious. "Okay, so. They're all probably gonna come through that door. Probably not all at once, but it'll probably happen. Probably." Bloodhound nods. "So one or two of us should be in here and wait as long as possible for a couple to come in deep. Ahaha, come in deep." He clears his throat when neither teammate laughs.

He points out the window with two fingers out to simulate a person running. "Then the others will sneak out through this window and either take one out quietly or just flank from behind to sandwich the ones inside. I don't know how many will actually come inside so… yeah I don't know."

Pathfinder and Bloodhound nod in understanding. The hunter whispers, "Odd… yet creative. I will follow the plan. Who shall stay inside?"

"Not me," Pathfinder pipes up. He points to his screen with a frown. "I cannot dim this enough to be unnoticeable. And my joints have become loud from previous injuries."

Mirage purses his lips, thinking. "Okay, yeah, good point. I nomi- noniminate- I pick Hound. You've got that…" he waves his hand in a vague gesture, "stealthy hunter-look going on."

Bloodhound smiles softly. "Yes, that is intentional. I will stay behind. If you wish."

"G-good. Great. Me and Path'll go out now, before anyone comes." Mirage stands to carefully open the window and climb out as quietly as possible. No matter how far he moves or how low he speaks, Bloodhound hears him clearly through their earpiece. "Let us know how many come in, but don't-" he pauses, seeming to consider his word choice. "Don't- kill… them. Okay? Don't catch them or anything. Just… monitor and report. Let us know if things get close."

Bloodhound nods again. "I will do as you wish, Elliott. Be careful… teammates."

With a wink and a grin, Mirage jumps out the window. Pathfinder follows after carefully patting the top of Bloodhound's helmet in assurance. He whispers, "Good luck, friend," before creaking out.

Bloodhound wastes no time to do as Mirage had instructed. They find a dark corner in the room nearest to the north door. They crouch beside some furniture they believe will stay untouched by light should the door open. There are no artificial lights in King's Canyon, other than those used as abilities, so they plan on following the enemies through the dark shadows of the cabin until told to do otherwise.

This plan as many holes that leaves one or all of them vulnerable. If Bloodhound were to be spotted, they may not react in time to get to cover, and their team would be three enemies away. Pathfinder and Mirage could make too much noise and draw the team outside, leaving it two against three. The whole plan is based on the notion that one or two of enemy squad may or may not come into the cabin while the third is out, possibly looking through some boxes. It's a plan Bloodhound would have never thought of, but one they follow because they trust their team. While Bloodhound is more versed in animal stalking, Mirage knows human impulse well. If he believes two will come inside and one will stay outside, Bloodhound believes it too.

Then, as Mirage predicted, the door opens slowly to reveal an enemy. Bloodhound stays still, watches as he moves across the kitchen carefully, watches as a second enemy enters, and follows the other through the cabin. They soon lose any caution of the dark, yet still stick close together. Bloodhound keeps an eye out for the door but no one else comes through. They eventually must turn their back on the door to focus on following the enemy duo, trusting Mirage and Pathfinder to keep the third away.

Mirage's plan works relatively smoothly. Bloodhound very very quietly tells their team when the duo is at the farthest end of the cabin, the farthest room away from the door. Then, not even a minute later, Bloodhound hears Pathfinder announce, in his best inside-yet-outside voice, that the third has been "dealt with."

Bloodhound sees when the duo notice their dead teammate, lets their own team know, and follows Mirage's instruction to "keep them in until we get closer." Quickly, Bloodhound locks a nearby door handle before gently closing it shut, locking Bloodhound in the same room as the enemies. The duo raced for the door, but find themselves cornered in, unable to leave the room. Bloodhound stays silent as they yell for their teammate and try to break down the door.

"Where are they?" Mirage asks through the team com link.

Bloodhound waits for a particularly loud punch at the hardwood door to respond. "Master bedroom," they whisper.

"We hear 'em. Start shooting right after us."

"Okay," they agree, without much thought about what Mirage and Pathfinder have planned. Being locked in a dark room with two very angry enemies should be unnerving, but Bloodhound can't seem to mind when they know their team is coming. The enemies know the two are coming as well, because as soon as they hear footsteps, they quiet down and aim at the door behind cover.

It turns out, Mirage's plan is yank the door open, throw in an ark star, and shut it for the short duration of the blast. The enemies had no time to get in more than a few shots before Mirage disappears. The ark star's blast covers the entire bedroom, lighting it up in blue and white for half a second. Bloodhound sees the electricity spread through both of the enemies' bodies, feels it spread through their own like a lightning strike in their veins. The two scream in pain, but Bloodhound bites their lip to keep silent.

When the light blinks out, the door slams open, and Mirage and Pathfinder rush in. They both shoot the nearest enemy, unaware of the second who had hidden off to the side. Bloodhound's body rejects the effects of the ark star twice as fast as the enemy's does. They're already pulling out their weapon before it fades, and is able to pull the trigger once they're free. The bullets spray across the man's back, making him fall to the ground convulsing. Mirage turns his attention to the enemy then and finishes him off just as Bloodhound does, both of their weapons unloading into his head to make sure he's been eliminated.

A flash of light explodes outside, streaks of white flush in through the room's sole window and the whole squad stands in alert for a moment, thinking they're being ambushed. It isn't until a female voice booms, "We have a winner," that they understand.

"WHOOHOO!" Pathfinder yells. He jumps for joy, a very happy emoticon flashing with star eyes on his screen.

"We did it!" Mirage announces, voice full of surprise. He throws the gun to the ground and puts his hands in the air. "We did it, we did it, we did it, Hound! Hell yeah!"

Bloodhound releases a heavy sigh in relief and drops their gun to the bed much more carefully in case it may go off in the excitement. They're grinning, their cheeks hurting from the force of it, and approaches their highly enthusiastic team to celebrate as well. "We've won. It has been an honor to fight besi--"

"Wait, what the fuck, you were in here?!" Mirage blurts out. His odd celebratory dance is paused for a moment to stare at the hunter in bewilderment. "I threw a fucking grenade in here, I'm so sor--"

"No worries." Bloodhound interrupts quickly, a hand on his shoulder. "You cannot hurt me, remember?"

The concern quickly melts from his face and is replaced with joy again, "Y-yeah. Yeah!" There's a light in his eyes when he yells at the ceiling at the top of his lungs, "YEAH! We're the Champions!"

Bloodhound laughs to themself and watches as Mirage and Pathfinder do an elaborate handshake together in excitement. The man's expression seems to match the animated smile on the robot's screen with startling accuracy. They're both jumping on their feet, and Bloodhound feels an unusual urge to express their happiness too. Normally when they win, they shake a few hands, slap a few shoulders, give a few nods, but now they want to do something a little more expressive.

Bloodhound quickly grabs Mirage's elbow before he leaves with Pathfinder. They release their hold as soon as they realize what they've done. Then the look on Mirage's face stops them again. He just seems happy, not afraid of why Bloodhound might be holding him back. Bloodhound smiles in relief and pulls Mirage close with a hand on his arm. There's a flash of surprise on his face when Bloodhound reaches up with a gloved hand, slowly turns his chin to the side, and presses their mouthpiece oh so gently to his cheek in something that might be a kiss if there wasn't so much gear. Bloodhound pulls back to see that his surprise has mixed with something else that makes his mouth fall open and his cheeks turn dark red. The pink travels down his neck, peaks through his beard, and burns bright at his ears.

Satisfied, Bloodhound grins, letting him go so they can leave the cabin and get back to base. "We must go, Mirage. We are Champions, remember?"

Mirage takes a few seconds to follow after the hunter. Tripping and stuttering, he asks, "D-did you- ? Was that your w-way of- ? Did you just kiss me?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Elliott, I am wearing a mask."

"Yeah but--"

"Look, a ship," they interrupt. They hold out a hand to point at the shuttle they know will help them get out of here. All they have to do is strap in and close their eyes, so that when they open them again, they'll be right as rain, back in their own flesh and blood. It's a painless, two second process Bloodhound's done hundreds of times. But at that moment, with the feeling of pride and adrenaline from the match flowing through them, they think they might have a little fun.

As they step onto the shuttle, Bloodhound glances back to see Mirage blowing a few quick kisses to the empty arena because he knows the cameras are always watching. They feign hesitation in the middle of shuttle, shuffling their feet and glancing between the rows of seats and Mirage shyly. When Mirage meets them, he notices. He raises an eyebrow and takes a step forward.

"Do you wanna go first?" Mirage asks with a smirk on his lips.

Bloodhound smiles knowing he remembers. They lower their head and gesture to the seats vaguely, "I do not..." they begin quietly, "This is different…"

Mirage raises an eyebrow as he steps up to them confidently, a stark difference to what he showed when Bloodhound had… touched their mouthpiece to his cheek. "Hm?"

Bloodhound's breath hitches, and they don't need to pretend to fiddle with their hands at the close proximity. "It is different from the ship I came in on…" He watches their mask carefully though their head is tilted down. "Is it not? I may be unfamiliar with this one."

The smirk on his face grows as he rolls his eyes. "Well then, I guess I'll have to… show you the ropes…"

Bloodhound lets him tug at their belt and guide them around to a seat, lets him point out all the straps, tell them what they're there for, show them they'll be safe. They let him do this because they realize how much they've been missing out on when it comes to their friends. They saw a new side of Lifeline when she tried to tell them how she had saved their life, when she made sure everyone was careful around them, made sure they knew what was going on. They saw a new side of Bangalore when she took lead in the Game while the others were stressed. They saw Wraith be a little more open, a little more empathetic. They saw Pathfinder as a valued friend not only for conversation, but also for an emotional uplift. Then they saw Mirage as Elliott Witt, the fun and flirtatious trickster who was just afraid they might think of him different if didn't always have his head in the Game.

Bloodhound also saw themself in a newer light. Their passion for the Games is still there, the reason is still there, but they realize they stayed not only to compete Game after Game in a hellbent strive to win, they stayed because they needed a little place called home for a while with friendly faces that got them, that got what little they let out. They're more than just a frighteningly skilled hunter. Their friends are more than what they thought. And Bloodhound is more than willing to understand them differently, especially one unique trickster.

**Author's Note:**

> and they lived happily ever after, the end
> 
> ( please comment and tell me all about your cats :3 )


End file.
